


Branded

by Schizzar



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Post Path of Radiance, Smut, Spoilers, War, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 01:39:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 70,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schizzar/pseuds/Schizzar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soren has finally given up on trying to live a normal life and has decided to take Stefan up on his offer. But there's more secrets to his identity, secrets even he didn't know about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story sorta/kinda follows the time line of the beginning of Radiant Dawn, but that's about it. At the time of writing, I hadn't played Radiant Dawn yet, so some of the characters are a tad OoC, but I tried not to have them present long enough for you to tell. 
> 
> I also brought in a few characters from other Fire Emblems so there wouldn't be too many OCs in the Branded colony. Enjoy!

Soren had been determined to live a normal life despite being Branded. Fort he first four years after the war, it had been easy with restoration in the capital city taking place. But now that things had calmed down a bit, he was left jobless and the Greil Mercenaries were planned to go back to their base within the month.

Reluctantly, he had told Ike what he was and, being the man he was, Ike had not thought any differently, demonstrating a complete lack of understanding for why being Branded was so wrong. But now people were noticing and whispered rumors were flying through the capital city of Crimea. While beorc and laguz were co-existing peacefully, the Branded were still considered taboo.

And that was why he was leaving. Four years ago, before the war had ended, STefan had told him he had friends in Grann Desert, and that they would welcome him. As much as it pained him to leave the Greil Mercenaries behind, he knew it had to be done, before his secret was out. While Ike accepted him, he doubted the others would. If he stayed and they did accept him, he would only be able to stand by and watch death sap their strength and eventually claim them.

It was better to cut himself off now. Without goodbyes. Quick and painless.

Soren sat up and grabbed the pack he had filled with cloths and provisions the night before. He had sent a carrier pigeon to Stefan a fortnight ago and Stefan had replied that he would be waiting outside the city gates when he was ready.

As Soren stole out into the empty cobblestone streets, he glanced up at the moon. At least the moon wouldn't change. It would be the same moon, no matter where he went. Just as he was about to continue, a voice stopped him.

"Soren? Where are you going?"

The mage cringed. He could've handled it if any other member had come out and stopped him. But of course, it just  _had_  to be Ike.

"I'm leaving."

"Why?"

Soren refused to turn around. He knew that if he saw the look on Ike's face, his resolve would crumble and he wouldn't be able to muster the strength back up to leave.

"You know why."

"Soren, no one cares!"

"Yes they do! People are already talking about how I'm not aging and how I still look like I'm only fifteen! You're a good man Ike, of course you'll accept me. But no one else will."

"You don't know that. Stay here Soren."

"I have plans already organized. I decided to go two weeks back. This is for the best Ike...I don't want to bring myself pain by staying here," Soren said.

"Would you please turn around?"

Soren did so, slowly, keeping his gazed fixed firmly on the ground. He heard Ike step forward and soon his leather boots were almost touching his own, the heat of his body radiating off of him and wrapping Soren up in a cocoon of familiar comfort.

"I guess if I'm never going to see you again, I should say this now so I don't regret never saying it."

His heart was in his throat as Ike's warm and calloused hand, weathered by years of training and fighting, tilted his chin up gently. He didn't get a chance to look at Ike's face because the next moment, their lips were pressed together firmly. The mage wanted to weep. Of course, something he had longed for over five years was granted to him on the night of his departure.

His throated seized up tighter as Ike's arm twined around his waist, pulling him close. The blue haired general pulled away briefly but Soren couldn't help but press into him again, wanting to burn the taste of the man onto his taste buds so he would never forget it.

When they pulled away, Soren whirled away, shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry Ike. It's for the best."

"I know. I'm sorry too. I wish...you wouldn't leave."

"Maybe...I'll come back to visit."

Ike sighed, his hand patting Soren's shoulder. "Don't fill me with false hope Soren. I know you won't come back. It's just the type of man you are and I should respect that. You're saving us both pain I just...don't want to acknowledge that you're right again, like always."

"I love you Ike. I always will," Soren murmured, lips in a frown.

"I love you too, Soren. Goodbye."

"Bye."

Soren stepped away, all of his limbs feeling like pudding, screaming at him to turn around and walk back into a life that would be filled with happiness, however short lived. But he kept moving on relentlessly, feeling his heart tug with every step until finally he was outside of the gates. Overwhelmed with a sense of utter despair and loneliness, he fell to his knees, his throat tight and eyes wet.

"There you are."

The mage tried to compose himself as Stefan's voice sounded to his right and the sword master stepped out from the trees. Stefan looked sympathetic though and he nearly knelt down in front of Soren, looking him directly in the eyes, unflinchingly, absorbing the pain there without judging him.

"You'll forget him soon enough. Don't worry. We have all been what you've been through but where we are headed is a place for wounds to heal. You aren't alone," he said softly.

Soren nodded and wept.

 

-.-

 

They rested that night in a small encampment Stefan had prepared and then left at the crack of dawn, wanting to get a head start on anyone who might decide to come after them.

"Where are we going exactly?" Soren asked, packing up his bedroll.

"A port city to the West. There's another Branded we need to pick up that on the coast of Gallia," Stefan answered, shouldering his own pack and readjusting his sword so it rested more comfortably on his hip.

"I see. How big is this group?"

"About thirty in all," Stefan replied as they began walking. "Would you like me to tell you about them?"

Soren nodded, willing to try anything to get his mind off the festering discomfort within him.

"The most interesting are Cain and Zachri. They're twins, and their father was a Goldoan dragon. There's also..."

Soren examined the green haired man as they walked, barely paying attention to what was being said. As he stepped over logs and weaved under branches, the bright green hair would occasionally move enough for Soren to catch a glimpse of the birthmark that signified what he was.

"How do you tell their heritage?" Soren interrupted.

"We go by basic features. And some of them did know their parents before they were...discarded," Stefan replied.

"So what are you?"

Stefan's expression grew wary and closed off abruptly and Soren regretted saying anything at all. "That is something I am not willing to discuss. My apologies."

"No, it is my fault for asking. May I ask what you think I am?" Soren asked, quickly changing the subject.

Stefan looked him over, gaze thoughtful. "Your hair color makes me want to say dragon heritage but...you're a little on the pale side for that. You can ask Mina when we arrive. She's the best at identifying heritages and is never off the mark, to my knowledge."

Soren looked down, unsure of what else to say. He had never been good in social situations and was usually more content with silence, awkward or no. But silence now meant thought and thought meant Ike. All things he wanted to avoid currently.

"You'll get over him. And the life you have left behind. Who knows, maybe you'll see him again?" Stefan said quietly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Soren said.

"A blind person could tell that you were in love with Ike," Stefan sighed. "But you might meet him again, you might have to."

Soren looked at the sword fighter, alarmed. "What do you mean?"

"I'm planning on turning us into a country. There's only thirty of us now, but our numbers will continue to grow and soon, Tellius will have to recognize us as a people and not beasts that need to be killed," Stefan said firmly. "And countries need allies and to be honest, I think Crimea is our best bet."

"I...don't know what to say..." Soren said.

Stefan looked down at him, smirking. "Well, I was hoping maybe you could be our tactical genius that helps us negotiate. But if you don't want it, I can-"

"I'll take it. I'll have to make myself useful somehow if I live there with you and I can't say I'm a good physical worker," Soren said, flushing a little for admitting a weakness so readily.

Stefan threw his head back and laughed. "Oh don't worry. Your wind magic is plenty enough of a strength to protect you in a fight. I've seen you in action Soren, and you are quite powerful."

"I try," Soren said, trying not to sound too smug at the compliment.

"We all have our places in society. Yours will just be to help negotiate peace alliances, when the time comes and before that...well you could always teach some of the others how to use magic. You'll be the only magic user there; the others are more inclined to use weapons and brute force. It'll be nice to have something else for a change," Stefan said.

"I will help in anyway I can," Soren promised.

"And that's all I'm asking."


	2. Chapter 2

It took them two days to reach the port city of Tenning and once there, Stefan bought them a room at the inn.

"I booked us passage on a ship to one of the ports in Gallia while you were out shopping," Stefan said as he walked into their room. He was about to say something else but when he looked up, he saw that Soren was fast asleep on the bed, a large book resting as his side, a finger slipped into the pages, marking his place. "Soren. Wake up please."

Soren stirred, his nose scrunching as he began to wake. The mage looked startled once he woke and quickly sat up.

"Oh damn I lost my place!" he hissed, glancing at his hand that had slipped out of the heavy book.

Stefan laughed. "Sorry. I wasn't going to disturb you but I have something important to tell you."

"Oh, um, yes. Go ahead," Soren said, shaking his head in a way to clear it.

"I got us a ship. It'll take about a week to get where we need to be, I hope you don't mind," he said as he sat down on his own bed, stripping off his boots.

"No, I don't mind. Why do you think I went out and bought all of those books?"  
Stefan chuckled. "Smart move. What are they about?"

Soren flushed a little, embarrassed. "Uh...they're history texts. And geography maps. I know it's kind of boring but I-"

"No, it's not boring. You just like to be educated. There's nothing wrong with that," Stefan said, shrugging as he removed his sheath and then stripped off his blue robe, unbuttoning his purple sweater next.

Soren swallowed, watching the swift fingers for a brief moment before tearing his gaze away. "You said maybe I should teach the others how to use magic. Would...you maybe be interested on our voyage?"

"No. I'm strictly a sword master, to be honest. I've attempted magic before and it's been hopeless. Thank you though, for the offer," Stefan said. "It was quite considerate. Maybe ask our new friend, when we find him."

"Do you know anything about him?" Soren asked, turning to face him and slipping his legs beneath him.

"I know his name is Xane and that he is most definitely a Goldoan dragon. Full blooded too. I have no idea why he wants to join us or how he heard of us, but Lythia tells me he is definitely sincere," Stefan said, reclining back to rest on the pillows. "I can't wait to meet him, he should be a very fascinating individual."

"Yes...that reminds me though. Is there a way for a laguz to lose their shape shifting abilities?" Soren asked, red gaze turning to look Stefan full in the eyes.

"I believe so. It's never been proven but they say under immense emotional stress a laguz can lose this ability. There's also a rumor that a laguz leader can take it away but that is very unlikely and also has never been proven. Why do you ask?"

"Well it was just in the texts I was reading it mentioned a myth about what you had mentioned. I was just wondering if maybe any of it was true," Soren said, shrugging.

"I don't think so. In any case, I suggest you put the books away and get some sleep. We leave early tomorrow and you won't see land for quite a few days."

Soren nodded. "Thank you, Stefan. For taking care of me."

"We're the Branded, outcasts for something we never did. If we don't look out for each other, who will?"

 

-.-

 

_Dear Journal,_

__

_Third day at sea. I've been training with Stefan these past few days. I expressed an interest in wanting to be able to fight better against sword masters and he offered to lend a hand. We've both taught each other important skills in just two days. Now it is only a matter of time before we prefect these techniques. I have finally been able to push Ike-_

"Soren?"

Soren looked up to see Stefan stepping into their shared cabin. "Yes?"

"What are you writing?" the green haired man asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm chronicling the events," Soren answered. "And things about my friends. Things I...don't want to forget."

"I see. Would you like to train? I'm rather bored to be honest."

"I guess." Soren stood up and stretched, grabbing his fire tome as he did so. "I don't know if you're too sensitive to the fire mag-"

"Are you?"

Soren looked up. "Am I what?"

"Sensitive to fire magic."

"No. Thunder, a little. It makes me feel a bit weird."

"And fire can always hit me easier. Because I have lion's blood somewhere in my line. The fact that you're sensitive to thunder means you probably have dragon's blood," Stefan explained.

"Wait...Lion's blood?" Soren dropped the fire tome abruptly, tearing into his pack for one of the history texts he had been reading.

Stefan watched as Soren flipped it open, searching almost frantically for a certain page. Once he found it, his red eyes darted all of the pages of tiny text, looking for one specific bit of information that seemed determined to elude him.

"It says lion's blood is only traced through the royal line," Soren murmured. "Are you sure it's lion heritage?"

He regretted questioning him when he looked up and saw Stefan's face. The sword master's expression was deadly, much like that of before only now Soren could detect a fiery hatred in the blue depths of his eyes. Such strong emotions he had never seen the man display, not even when in the heat of battle. It frightened him.

"I..."

Stefan moved away quickly. "Let us train."

Soren nodded and followed him up onto the deck, not willing to try Stefan's patience at the moment. He knew when it was best to remain silent and not take the chance of getting his tongue cut out of his head. Stefan guided them to any area away from the immediate crew and then whirled around, gaze still angry.

The mage readied himself for the attack he knew was going to come, leaping to the side when it came and letting the incantations for the fire spell fly from his lips. The flame materialized above his head, the tome in his hands glowing softly before the ball of heat darted at Stefan. The sword master flipped to the side and moved in again, not letting up for even a second to give Soren a chance to counter. Grateful that he had learned to read Stefan so well, Soren weaved and ducked, realizing with a cold clarity that Stefan was angry with him, furious that Soren would dare pry into his life. This brought forth an anger of him.

Stefan had easily butted into his private life four years ago. He had done so the night Soren had fled. What gave him the right to be angry when he had so casually invaded his private life? Soren leapt to the side one more time and with an adrenaline filled speed, lifted his foot and snapped it soundly into Stefan's gut, halting whatever move he was going to make after that.

They both stopped, Soren almost falling over from the lack of balance after such a move.

"Would you calm down?" he hissed, his breath coming in short pants.

The anger seemed to clear from Stefan's eyes abruptly and he straightened, a look of concern quickly moving over his face. "I...apologize Soren. I don't know what came over me."

"You have no right to get pissed at me for prying! You pry into my life just fine so don't be such a hypocrite," Soren snapped, eyes flashing as he straightened his robes. "You're impossible!"

"Soren, I do apologize. That was a very immature thing of me to do. Are you okay?"

"Yes I'm-"

Soren was cut short when a sharp pain flashed up his thigh and he nearly crumbled to the ground. Stefan was at his side immediately, helping him to his feet and lending his support.

"I don't think you are. Your body isn't very used to physical fighting and that move there probably was beyond your flexibility capabilities. Let us return inside and rest your muscles. It's probably strained," Stefan said quietly, dropping his sword and picking Soren up all in the same motion.

"It wouldn't be strained if you hadn't been an idiot," Soren grumbled.

"I take fault for it, yes. And I apologize. Now can you please stop criticizing my idiocy?" Stefan sighed.

"I might go on for another few hours or so, but I suppose I can stop for now," he muttered, leaning against the other man's shoulder tiredly.

"I take it you aren't used to physical pain?"

"Oh I am. You haven't seen the scars," Soren said quietly. "I just don't enjoy it and tend to whine a lot. But I deserve to whine this time so shut up and don't complain."

"Scars?"

"And you're prying again."

"Uh, right. I'll try to stop," Stefan said, opening their door and then plopping Soren unceremoniously on the bed. "Now relax while I go make you some tea."

"Tea?" Soren questioned, raising a thin black eye brow.

"Yes. My own brew. Helps with pain of any kind," Stefan said, giving him a quick wink before disappearing out the door.

Soren groaned and let his head flop onto the pillow. Honestly, the man could be impossible!

 

-.-

 

Soren followed Stefan down the slanted plank and onto the ground, the long grass swishing around his knees. The sword master didn't pause after getting off, heading right for the thick line of trees. Soren could feel the temperature rise almost immediately, the muggy heat of the sun being trapped by the tight coverage of trees. It was one of the things he didn't like about Gallia. It was always hot and he was always left sweating in seconds, tripping over the myriad of vines that littered the floor of the forest. To make matters worse, he was one of the most uncoordinated people in the world.

"Xane. It's us," Stefan called, stopping so abruptly that Soren almost smacked into him.

The mage jumped when the bushes behind them rustled and then whirled around, the words of a spell already on his lips. Instead he saw a young man step out, not an enemy, a brown cap pulled down over bright pink hair, shielding his eyes completely. The brown trousers he wore were torn at the knees and the edges were frayed, displaying dirt caked bloody skin.

"Soren, this is Xane. He's Goldoan, like I told you. So, Xane. Are you ready to go?" Stefan asked, not even batting an eye at the disheveled appearance.

The man, who looked more like a boy than anything, nodded once, jerkily. Stefan nodded in reply and then began walking again, leaving Soren and Xane scrambling to keep up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably note that the writing style gets a lot better as the story goes. This story took about three years to write and about midway through there's a huge leap in my ability to write well, so be on the look out for that.

_Dear Journal_

_Day 7. I'm writing from an inn in a small laguz settlement. We have finally picked up the new member of the Branded society and he isn't even Branded. He's a full blooded laguz, according to Stefan, so I don't know why he wants to join. I haven't bothered attempting talking to him because it's quite obvious he'll have nothing to do with talking to either of us. He hasn't said anything at all since we found him._

_I can't stop wondering about Ike. If I had stayed, would we be together? Would I finally get to have the one thing I've wanted for years, his love? I should get rid of these thoughts but I can't seem to. They'll only harm me in the end so it's better if I just forget. But it's so hard sometimes._

Soren stopped writing when he heard his door open. Surprised, he realized it was Stefan and quickly closed the journal.

"Can I help you?"

"No, there's nothing I want specifically, except for someone to talk to," Stefan said, plopping down on Soren's bed without invitation.

The mage raised an eyebrow. "Is Xane still not talking?"

"Nope. And even though I enjoy my silence, it's unnerving when there's another person in the room," Stefan said, cracking his neck and yawning. "So I see you're writing again?"

"Uh, yes," Soren said, looking down at the leather bound journal. "It's silly but I-"

"Whatever helps you get over them," Stefan said with a shrug, leaning back to stretch fully onto Soren's bed.

"Do you have to do that?" Soren asked.

"Do what?"

"You didn't even take your boots off and now there's dirt on the covers. I have to sleep there, I hope you realize that," Soren grumbled, grabbing his journal and stuffing it in his pack, storing it under the desk.

"Who knew you were such a neat freak?" Stefan said with a smirk, kicking his boots off the edge of the bed.

"It was actually a well known fact back...there," Soren said stiffly, grabbing Stefan's legs and shifting them so he was no longer laying on the bed. "Now, leave. I want to go to sleep."

"So you're sending me back in there with the silent man?" Stefan sighed dramatically, standing up. "What if he kills me in my sleep?"

"I know that you're more than capable of protecting yourself. Now I'm tired, please leave," Soren said.

"If you wake up and I'm dead-"

"You won't die, now go," Soren ordered, rolling his eyes at Stefan's surprising amount of childish behavior.

Stefan snickered and left the room, leaving Soren to collapse on the bed, exhausted. The full day of traveling had been brutal on his feet, so unused to intense walking after a week on the confined space of a ship. As he drifted into sleep, not even bothering to change out of his traveling clothes he was so exhausted, a strange smell met his nose. Not strange...good. But before he could determine what it was, he was asleep.

 

-.-

 

They left the next day, a little later than usual so that Xane could sleep in, a little while at least. Stefan thought he needed it, and Soren wasn't about to complain. It meant they could have a warm breakfast in a heated room without sitting on the hard ground.

Unfortunately, this proved to be a bad choice. They weren't far into their meal when the inn doors were thrown open and two large men stepped in, dressed in elegant red robes that betrayed their rough manner.

Xane's head flew up and for the first time, Soren saw his eyes. The red orbs were wide, panic swimming in their depths with fear interlaced with the alarm. Feeling that it was better safe than sorry, Soren pulled his Elwind tome out of the pack at his feet, realizing that likewise, Stefan had grabbed the hilt of his sword.

"Can I help you?" the owner, a cat laguz, asked, remaining calm despite the intimidating force that had intruded.

"Why, yes, you could," the first said.

They were both bald with fiery red eyes, a hint that they were of Goldoan descent, most likely full blooded laguz.

"Alright. What is it then?"

"A person. Goldoan dragon," he said shortly.

"Well we don't have any of those staying here, good sir," the cat laguz said, tail flicking in irritation.

"Oh we can already see him. We'll just take him and be on our way." Both of their gazes flicked to Xane, which was the last straw for Stefan and Soren. With a whispered word, Soren shattered the nearest window, grabbing Xane roughly and shoving him towards the new exit.

As the men crashed towards them, knocking tables and chairs over in the process, Stefan drew his Vague Katti. Soren made sure Xane had gotten through the window before turning to assist Stefan but was greeted with the sight of two dead men on the ground. Quickly, he followed Xane and made a run for the forest, his ears picking up on Stefan's pounding feet behind him.

After five straight minutes of hard running, they finally caught up to Xane. Soren reached a hand out and snatched the Goldoan's wrist, bringing him to an abrupt stop. Startled, Xane jerked. Upon seeing it was Soren though, he calmed, slipping his hand from the mages as his gaze moved to the ground.

"What was that?" Stefan demanded, his tone shocking Soren. In all the time he had known Stefan, he had never heard that tone, never heard him so angry

"Who were they?"

"Stefan, your scaring him," Soren saidd, glancing at the trembling laguz.

"And I don't give a damn. Now answer my question!"

"They're rouge laguz...um bandits," Xane mumbled. "They a-attacked my village and I was banned."

"What?" Soren asked.

"Who banned you and why?" Stefan asked, his tone a little gentler, though not much.

"Everyone. B-Because I can't transform anymore," Xane continued, voice cracking. "My spirit…it fled. So now I'm only a...human!"

Soren recoiled in surprise. "That can't be possible. It's impossible. That's just a rumor-"

"No it's not! I wouldn't be here if it was!" Xane shouted, still not looking up, fists clenching and unclenching.

"What did they do that would make something so...unlikely happen?" Stefan asked softly.

"They hurt me." His voice was no more than a whisper now, as if all the strength had drained out of him after his outburst.

"How did-"

"Stefan, leave it," Soren ordered, meeting the sword master's eyes with a sternness he never knew he had until that moment. "We should just keep going and get to Grann Desert as soon as possible."

Stefan looked like he was going to protest but then decided that the mage was right. "Fine. But Xane, I swear that if there's any other danger you've failed to mention, we're leaving you behind."

Soren shot a glare at Stefan. "I won't. He might but I won't leave a defenseless person behind to fend for himself."

Stefan didn't respond, striding past both of them without a glance behind to see if they were following.

 

-.-

 

"You're heartless."

"Everyone says you are too."

Soren fumed in silence at that retort. He was keeping watch and Stefan had decided to join him while Xane slept beside the fire.

"He's traumatized and defenseless. He had no way of knowing those bandits would follow him. Leaving him to die is not something you should threaten someone like him," Soren said.

"Someone like him? He's a laguz, whether he can transform or not! His kind treat us worse than dirt so I have no qualms with ditching him," Stefan snapped.

"What is with you? This is not how you normally are at all!" Soren said. "I understand your hatred but you have to understand that not all laguz are like those that mistreat us. You were friends with Mordecai, were you not?"

"That's different."

"No it isn't! Goddess, I never knew you were so prejudice to other races. I...can't believe I used to be like that," Soren said, voice quieting.

Silence fell over them, neither moving as they contemplated the furious words that had been exchanged. Soren didn't want to start his relationship with Stefan on an argument; not when he would undoubtedly be spending the rest of his life with the man's group.

"Sorry, for getting angry. You've done nothing but help me and I repay you with anger," Soren said quietly.

"Don't apologize. I'm the only one who should do that. I'm letting prejudice blind me and that is not how I should act," Stefan said. "Forgive me, Soren."

Soren nodded his acceptance, gaze staring into the fire.

"Do you still miss them?"

"Yes," Soren answered, knowing he meant the memories he had left behind. "Every moment."

"How long were you in love Ike? Don't answer if it's...too personal," Stefan said.

"Years. Five years."

"I promise it will get better. It was a long time yes, and it's hard to get over a love so strong after it is finally returned. But I promise you that it's for the best. You would only grow old and watch him die and I know how painful that is. It's not a path you want to take," Stefan said softly.

"I know. It's okay. I know," Soren said.

"Knowing doesn't make it better."

"I know that too. I'm just going to take it one day at a time. One day I just won't notice it," Soren said quietly.

"There will be people there to help you. I'll help you too," Stefan assured him, moving closer.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything," Soren said, looking up at the sword master, his anger now long forgotten in the light of such a personal topic.

"It's no problem. I do care about you Soren, after that year of working beside you," Stefan told him.

Stefan drew him into a hug and Soren collapsed into it gratefully, resting his head on the man's chest and closing his eyes. As they sat there, his nose picked up a familiar scent, the one he had smelled the night before on his bed after Stefan had left. Realizing that it was the man's natural scent, he moved closer, breathing in the comfort smell that assured him that he was safe.


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Journal_

_Day 16. We just arrived in Grann Desert last night and I can easily say that I'm glad I made this decision. The people here are nice and open. I especially have enjoyed Meidan's company. He is of the crow descent and he is quite humorous. He easily takes my mind off of the thoughts that have been plaguing me. Thoughts about Ike and Stefan...and what exactly happened to Xane. I think I know but...somethings are just better left unsaid I suppose._

"So, what do you think?"

Soren jolted out of his thoughts abruptly, and turned to see that Stefan had entered the small room he had been given.

"The people here are nice, yes," Soren commented, recovering quickly as he turned to face the sword master. "And well...they aren't too pressuring about wanting to know things. I like that."

"We all have pasts we don't like to discuss and they won't ask unless you offer to tell," Stefan said as he plopped down on Soren's bed, keeping in mind to kick off his boots before hand. "You seemed incredibly taken with Meidan."

"I suppose. He's amusing," Soren mumbled, looking away.

"Looked like more than amusement," Stefan said slyly with a smirk.

"What?"

"Don't tell me you didn't notice? He was coming onto you," Stefan said. "He does it to every new member but he usually isn't very serious. This time he was."

"I..." Soren didn't know what to say.

"I would go for it. Don't reject him," Stefan said. "Perhaps it would help you move on from your other friends. He's a good man, if you give him a chance."

"Barely an hour here and already trying to dictate my love life," Soren grumbled.

"But taking another crack at love is healthy," Stefan told him.

"I'm not going to  _try_  and fall in love with someone, Stefan. It doesn't work like that. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, oh well. I won't complain," Soren said firmly.

Stefan sighed. "Alright, you know what's best for yourself."

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I do," Soren said. "Thank you for all you've done, but please do not shove me into a relationship I am not ready for."

"My apologies. I'm...being unreasonable."

"Yes, you are."

Stefan chuckled. "No, see this is the point where you protest and tell me I'm perfect. It's the proper response."

"I prefer the truth," Soren said, smirking in a way that said all was forgiven.  
"But I like being lavished in compliments!"

"Well, you won't find them with me unless you are truly deserving," Soren said. "Now, off my bed. I'm tired."

"I could keep you company."

"No. Stefan, I'm tired. Please leave," Soren sighed, unable to be mad when looking at the swordmaster's good natured smirk.

"Oh, alright. I'll fetch you in the morning to meet with Mina. She'll be able to tell you what you are, heritage wise," Stefan said, moving off the bed and heading for the door.  
"Thank you, for everything," Soren said quietly, finding it impossible to stop thanking the man for rescuing him from a life of pain.

"I've only ever wanted the best for you. I know how hard it can be, being what we are," Stefan told him.

And with that, he disappeared, leaving Soren alone with his thoughts.

The next morning, Stefan did indeed come and find him. Unfortunately, Soren was so tired that his internal alarm to wake at the crack of dawn failed him, so instead the swordmaster walked in on Soren passed out on the bed, completely held hostage by the realm of sleep.

He debated whether or not to wake him. He obviously needed rest so he supposed the meeting with Mina could wait. Xane was likewise when he had checked in on him, passed out with seemingly no hope of being awakened.

"Well, I'm guess I'm alone this morning," he commented to the air.

"Aw, poor you. Who's this?" The voice belonged to the only Branded Stefan knew that could sneak up on him without a sound or any other detection; the cat thief Colm.

He turned to see the thief. He had not been present the night before when they had first arrived, which would explain why he didn't realize who Soren was.

"Tactician to General Ike."

Stefan looked at Colm to register his reaction. The ex-thief's blue eyes didn't even widen and his thin face didn't have any twitch of expression.

"And he's Branded? How does  _that_  work?"

"He only told Ike and I knew when I first saw him," Stefan said nonchalantly. "Ike is open, so he didn't understand why being Branded was such a big deal. It was hard for Soren to leave...but he understood eventually that he's better off with us."

"Like they all do," Colm said. "So, I'm guessing you were going to take him to see Mina? I can tell you without seeing her that he's dragon. But not just because of the traits. Other things."

"Care to elaborate?" Stefan asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh but if I did that would cause all sorts of political drama," Colm told him, tone falsely innocent.

"Now you're definitely telling me," Stefan ordered, not aware that Soren was now stirring from his sleep. "I don't know how you get all of this info but it's always correct and I'd rather know now then have to deal with unpleasant surprises later."

"How much will you pay me?" Colm asked, dancing out of Stefan's reach before the swordmaster could even attempt to grab him and stop him from escaping.

"You sound just like Volke," Stefan sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I learn from the best," Colm said. "But seriously, how much?"

"I'm not paying a dime," Stefan told him. "And I will kick you out if you don't tell me anything that may have a drastic effect on Soren.

"I know you won't do that. And even if you did, I know how to live on my own and fake my heritage," Colm said with a shrug, obviously not caring too much about the swordmaster's threat.

"Get out Colm, if you aren't going to tell me. I am expecting an answer later though," Stefan ordered. "Understand me?"

"Yes, your holiness," the thief said sarcastically before waltzing out the door, smirking slyly over his shoulder.

"Goddess, he's impossible," Stefan muttered, making for the door as well.

"Did I sleep late?" Soren asked, stopping him in his tracks.

Stefan turned slowly to face him, looking a little guilty. "Were you awake through all of that?"

Soren shrugged, eyes still cloudy with sleep as he stretched. Stefan realized as Soren yawned that he was getting a glimpse at the mage that not many other people could see. Even though they had been camping out together to reach Grann Desert, Stefan had never seen Soren in a relaxed state before, long dark green hair, almost black, tangled around him, eyes sleepy, and totally vulnerable.

"Just the end. I have to admit though, I am curious now," Soren said. "Well, more so than originally."

"Just ignore Colm. He's a...dick, for lack of a better insult," Stefan said, waving his hand dismissively.

Soren snorted, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing a brush to swiftly comb the knots out before whisking his hair into a ponytail in some semblance of order.

"If you insist. But I would like to know as well. When you can get it out of him, let me know," Soren said. "I apologize for being late in waking up. You wanted me to meet this Mina, correct?"

"Don't worry about sleeping in. It is hardly a bad thing after I've pushed you so hard," Stefan said dismissively.

"No, it's fine if you wake me. I'll need to pull my own weight around here," Soren told him. "Is Xane awake or is he sleeping as well?"

"He doesn't look like he'll be woken any time soon. Shall we go?" Stefan asked. "If you feel presentable enough that is..."

"Yes, this is fine for now," Soren said. "I'm eager to meet her."

 

-.-

 

Mina didn't look very old at all. Her hair was a light lavender color and her eyes matched, though the pupils were slit, the only hint that her heritage was that of the cat laguz. She was quite petite and frail looking, but after a closer look Soren could see she was not to be messed with, if the toned muscle under tan skin was anything to go by.

They had found her in one of the larger open rooms of the hideout, but it was almost completely empty, save for man off in the corner who was reading. Mina herself had been reading until Stefan had walked in the room and that was when she had stood and greeted him with a hug and a light kiss on each cheek, doing the same to Soren. Fighting down the awkwardness, Soren sat down across from Mina as she took her seat again.

"So, you're Soren," she said, her voice light and musical. "I trust Stefan took good care of you on your way here?"

"Besides the ruthless pace, yes," Soren said, nodding. "Stefan tells me you are quite good at picking up the hints in a person's appearance to determine their heritage. I can honestly say I've been interested ever since I've known I was Branded just what I was so I was hoping you could tell me."

"Mmm, yes. Well," she said, getting up and moving closer to him, looking him directly in the eyes. "Your eyes are red. That definitely hints towards dragon blood, very strong. Your hair isn't black either, like I first thought, more of a dark green." She fingered a few of the strands as she said this before backing up. "You're a bit pale for a dragon but...that could easily be chalked up to your other blood."

Soren was surprised at how easily she had dissected his blood line, just by looking at him. Thinking about what she had listed off as pointers towards the dragon blood, he thought back to Petrine and realized with a jolt about what she had said when they had faced off. They were even more alike then he had originally thought...why hadn't he seen the pieces to his heritage earlier.

"So, does that satisfy your curiosity?" Mina asked with a smile. "I can't really tell you much more than that."  
"No, this is more than enough. May I guess and say you are that of a cat?" Soren asked.

Mina nodded, purple hair bouncing. "Yep! But I can say that I've never been able to figure out what Stefan is, and he won't even let me guess."

Stefan rolled his eyes. "That's enough Mina. Now I need to give Soren the proper tour of the building, and get some food into him before he faints. I'll talk to you later, yes?"

"Of course."

 

-.-

 

The Branded hide out was under ground with four different entrances, each entrance opening into a small oasis somewhere in the desert. According to Stefan, the building had been there originally and it was sheer luck they had stumbled upon it. They had no idea how old it was or who's it had been, but Soren thought he had an idea about how it was made when they stopped for a break in the west commons area.

"You said that you don't know how this place has remained virtually untouched. My guess is magic," Soren told him. "This place is practically thrumming with power. That would explain why all those books in the library were in such great condition."

"That would make sense," Stefan said with a nod. "Though to be honest, as long as it doesn't collapse around our heads, I don't care how it stays up."

Soren rolled his eyes. "I thought you would say that. I can make it my job to monitor it. If the magics do fail, it will collapse around our heads, as you put it. I should be able to warn you in time to get out."

"And yet another good reason to have a mage around here. I should've kidnapped one before hand anyways, but one of our own kind is better," Stefan said. "Well, you've met everyone, and seen everything. What do you think? Can you be content here and move past your old life?"

For several moments, Soren didn't answer, putting serious thought into his answer instead of just blurting everything out. "I think so, yes. I want to be here, and I want to heal. This...with you...seems to be the best way to do this."

"You flatter me too much," Stefan said softly, standing up and moving over to the mage. Before he could move, Stefan had lightly kissed his forehead before moving away, striding for the door. "I'll see you around later. For now, keep yourself entertained."

The last of his sentence echoed from the hall, Soren still sitting stock still, stunned. He was left even more confused then when he had begun.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Journal_

_Day 17. I toured the entire hide out with Stefan today, and met Mina. Mina was nice enough, and confirmed that my heritage is indeed dragon laguz. I am now even more convinced that Stefan is a lion laguz, seeing as how he gets touchy when the topic is brought up. I guess I will just have to wait for him to tell me more on his own. I am also puzzled because he...kissed me on the forehead. It was weird and I didn't really know how to react but I couldn't say anything because he left right after._

"Hey, Soren, going to eat dinner alone, hm?"

Soren jolted when he heard Meidan's voice and turned to see the man staring down at him with a smirk on his lips. He was writing in the library so it wasn't exactly a private place so he hoped the other had not glimpsed at what he had been writing. As Meidan waited for an answer, he twiddled with the tips of his black hair, thin eyebrows raised as he looked expectantly at the mage.

"Ah...yes," Soren answered.

"That's a shame. I was going to ask if I could eat with you but it appears you don't want company," Meidan sighed, lips turning down.

"I wouldn't mind. You can eat with me," Soren said quickly, not wanting to disappoint the man.

Meidan brightened almost instantly. "Okay! I'll fetch meals for us both. Don't move!"

Soren watched as the other man sauntered for the kitchens, gnawing his lip. In all honesty, he was confused. Confused by Stefan's kiss, Meidan's need to please him, and by his own growing feelings for both of them. He wouldn't call it love, not even a crush, merely a strong affection and desire to be near them. But he wasn't so clueless as to now know where such feelings would lead.

While Meidan fetched their food, Soren quickly wrote a few more sentences down in the journal before stowing it away in the folds of his cloak, not wanting to chance the other seeing anything he had written in it. Meidan returned, humming to himself as he set a tray on Soren's lap before sitting down across from him.

"So, I heard you went and saw Mina today," Meidan said, setting straight into his meal.

"Yes...she only confirmed what Stefan and I had already guessed," Soren told him.

"Dragon? How fun. I'm just a boring old crow. All they manage to do is back stab people and that's not a reputation I like to have in my blood," Meidan said. "But I did inherit their good looks so I suppose it all works out in the end."

Soren almost choked at that comment but managed to pass it off as a cough, garnet gaze slowly sliding over Meidan. He was telling the truth after all. Like Naesala, Meidan had sharp and well defined angles with a dark blue hair, only black in appearance. The blue tint was only visible in the sunlight, which they didn't have a lot of down in the hide out. Also like Naesala, Meidan practically oozed self confidence which was quite attractive. Soren couldn't help but flush at his own thoughts and ducked his head, swallowing thickly.

"Are you alright, Soren? Got pretty quiet there all of the sudden," Meidan said, his tone saying that he knew very well why Soren had gone so quiet.

"Uh, yes, I'm quite alright," Soren said. "How long have you been here...with Stefan leading?"

"Since it started basically," Meidan said with a shrug. "I was one of the first ones that stumbled upon this place, completely by accident. I had passed out just before one of the entrances and Stefan dragged me inside. Been with him ever since. And you're the famous strategist he was always ranting about."

Soren flushed again. "He ranted about me?"

"Well, only to myself and Mina. He couldn't get over why you insisted on staying there and wasting your talents away. I mean, you would never have been able to live happily among all the humans," Meidan said, the last word a suppressed sneer. "I don't know how you could stand living with them for so long."

"They were nice," Soren defended. "I mean...they never knew my heritage but...Ike did and he was nice. He treated me like I was normal and that's all I could ever want."

"All humans turn eventually," Meidan insisted.

"Anyone could easily turn on anyone else. It's not just restricted to humans. Just because the minority tends to experience more pain doesn't mean that they're above the behaviors of anyone else," Soren told him, eyes daring him to disagree. He truly did enjoy Meidan's company, but this wasn't really something he was ready to budge on.

Meidan's dark gaze softened at Soren's tone. "Sorry. Didn't realize it was such a touchy subject. And...I guess you're right."

Soren finished up his meal, his desire to be in the man's company fizzling up. "I have somewhere to be. Thank you for eating with me, Meidan. It made this meal a little less lonely."

"Anytime," Meidan said, obviously not picking up on Soren's discomfort. "See you around then."

"Yes, of course."

 

-.-

 

Soren realized once he had returned to his rooms that he really didn't have anywhere else to be. His first instinct was to seek out Stefan but he quickly shot that down. Bugging Stefan because he was bored was not really a good idea. It was then that he remembered Xane. No doubt that the laguz could use some company so he decided to try and find the pink haired laguz. One of the other Branded members managed to direct him correctly to Xane's room and once he reached it, he knocked tentatively on the door, not wanting to startle him.

He could hear the shuffle of feet and then the door creaked open. Soren was pleased to see that the laguz already looked ten times better than from when they first found him. His clothes were clean for starters and his hair looked healthier now that it was washed. But despite the outward appearance, it was only just that: outward. One look at his eyes and Soren could see from their dark expression that the laguz wasn't very happy.

"Hi," Soren said. Now that he was here, he didn't quite know what to say.

"Would you...like to come on?" Xane asked, keeping his eyes down.

"Sure. I just came to see how you were doing," Soren said as he stepped inside. "And I was feeling a little lonely as well."

Xane sat down on the bed, hands folded in his lap. "Why didn't you go see Stefan? You two seem rather close."

"Because I thought perhaps you'd like some company," Soren answered, grabbing a chair and sitting down across from him, head tilted to the side.

"Oh..."

"How are you settling in?" It was quite apparent to Soren then that he would be the main contributor the conversation, a role he was definitely not used to.

"I'm doing well. No one demands answers like Stefan did so I am...content," Xane replied.

"Stefan was understandably angry at the time," Soren said hesitantly. "He would rather not draw any attention to himself. I don't mean to say he was right to demand answers but..."

"I understand," Xane interrupted. "Thank you though, for defending me."

Soren gave the other a hint of a smile. "We're both in a new place so it would be best if we know we can depend on one another."

"I'm a little useless," Xane said with a small laugh. "I'm not really the best person to depend on."

"We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Don't worry about being perfect," Soren told him.

Xane looked up then, meeting Soren's red eyes with his brown ones. "You've been so kind to me this whole time. How can I repay you?"

"There's no need. We're facing similar situations so it is only natural I help," Soren assured him.

"Still..."

"Oh dear Goddess help me!"

Soren whirled to see Stefan who had none to gently opened Xane's door and slammed it close abruptly, eyes wide. Xane looked shocked at the dramatic answer and was therefore unable to come up with an appropriate response to Stefan's odd behavior.

"Dare I ask?" Soren sighed.

Stefan flicked the lock to insure privacy before looking at them both with a sheepish grin. "One of our members has a frightening obsession with me. I need a place to hide."

Soren crooked an eyebrow. "You're the leader, tell her off."

"I prefer to stay on the good side of these I'm protecting, thank you," Stefan said, sitting on the floor abruptly.

"You're just like Ike. I'll go take care of this," Soren said.

Before Stefan could ask, Soren was out the door and in the hall, waiting for his admirer to appear. It didn't take long. She came around the corner within ten seconds, bright green hair bouncing as she walked towards him.

"Hey, you're the new guy right? Have you seen Stefan?" she asked innocently.

"As a matter of fact yes. I have come to inform you that Stefan does not take well to stalkers and I don't like taking care of them. I have done it before and I will do it again. If you would kindly remove yourself from his presence, that would be highly valued," Soren said, staring her directly in the eyes to convey his authority.

"I...um...you know about that?" she finally managed weakly.

"Yes I do. And he's spoken for. So if you would give up, that would be absolutely lovely," Soren told her.

Her eyes widened. "Spoken for? By who?"

"That is none of your business. Now run along."

Soren entered the room once more and raised an eyebrow at Stefan who was snickering.

"I heard everything," he said. "You sound like you've dealt with that kind of person before."

"Ike had somewhat of a stalker and I removed her," Soren said, tone dry. "So yes, I have had some experience with this. But as you can see, it really isn't that hard of a situation to deal with. You should try it yourself sometime."

"Ah, yes. I suppose I will." Stefan stood up and looked at both of them. "Well, I'm off. Thank you for that."

And with that he departed, leaving behind a very confused Xane and a sighing Soren.

 

-.-

 

Soren had been planning on going to bed early that night but a knock on his door stopped him. He opened it and was surprised to see Stefan there, looking more serious than he had earlier that afternoon. The mage let him in without question and shut the door, moving to sit in one of the chairs.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, frowning.

"Oh not really. I just had a question that's been bugging me since this afternoon," Stefan told him. "And I don't think I can sleep if it's on my mind."

"Go on..." Soren said.

"Well, you said I remind you of Ike," Stefan started, and for the first time, looked uneasy, avoiding Soren's gaze completely. "Is that a good thing?"

"I suppose so. Ike is sort of my hero. And I do love him," Soren said with a shrug. "So yes, it is."

"But even if it is a good thing, I would like you not to be reminded of him. I don't want you to remind you of someone you should be letting go," Stefan said. "I want you to move on."

"Well getting over a love isn't something fleeting. It's not like I can just go say that I'm over him and go on with my life so quickly," Soren said, feeling a little offended by Stefan's words.

"So let me help you."

"Excuse me? Help me how?"

Stefan met his eyes then, a blazing and strong...something flowing through them. "May I be completely blunt, Soren?"

"Um, yes. I have a feeling you will be even if I wish for you not to be," Soren said, heart beginning to pound. What on earth was Stefan going on about?

"I have been madly in love with you since we met."

"...Oh..."

Soren felt something akin to his heart stop beating and had to remind himself to breath. So...Stefan... _loved_  him. Well then. How awkward.

"And I want you to feel better. I want you to not ache whenever the thought of Ike so much as crosses your mind. I want to help you get better and I want to be with you. This is all so uncharacteristic of me. I should be much more in control of what I'm saying but it seems my heart is running away with my mouth," Stefan said.

Soren snorted at the image and then regained his composure when Stefan's expression turned sour. "I'm sorry that...just put odd images in my head. I...don't really know what to say Stefan. If we're being honest with one another then I'll say that I have felt some affection for you. I would not call it love."

"So where does that leave us?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Soren admitted. "I...guess we could try? And if it doesn't work, we're still friends and you're still one of the most amazing people I've ever met."

Stefan sighed, relaxing into the disposition Soren was used to. "That's relieving. Then may I ask of you something else?"

"I suppose?" Soren said, not quite sure if he should agree.

Stefan grabbed his hand and pulled him up, tugging him forward so that they were almost touching. Soren sucked in a breath and stared at the other man's lips, finding it incredibly hard to look away even though he knew now where this was leading. A moment later, their lips were touching and Soren let his eyes slide close as a strong arm moved around his waist, pushing them together. Stefan kept the kiss slow, moving his lips over Soren's softly but never deepening it...until Soren pressed closer, running his hands through the green locks and moaning softly into his mouth.

The sword master lost control then, pulling Soren close and deepening the kiss, their tongues dancing together with Soren trying hopelessly to keep up as his unexpected passion nearly overwhelmed them. It took a few moments for them both to calm down enough to pull away, and when they parted they were both a little out of breath.

"I didn't mean to get carried away," Stefan murmured, eyes capturing Soren's. It was the softest expression Soren had ever seen on his face and he felt something within him relax immediately, as if the final thing keeping him from wanting to love anyone else had broken away.

"It was really me. I'm...sorry," Soren said.

"Oh don't be sorry," Stefan said, his cocky grin returning. "But I don't think I should stay any longer. My control only reaches so far."

Soren flushed at the implication of the words. "Uh, yes. That would be a good idea."

Stefan kissed him once more, quickly, and then left, shutting the door firmly behind him. Soren sat down, dazed, lips tingling. He knew he would rest easy that night.


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear Journal_

__

_Day 18. I am no longer confused about my feelings for Stefan. It is definitely some sort of affection, and he returns it. We are now...together I suppose you could say. The ache in my heart for Ike is still there; my feelings for Stefan are not strong enough to erase something as strong as that. But it is eased somewhat now. I am happier here now then I ever was before, unable to live fully and comfortably. Now I am comfortable with who I am and am no longer disgusted with myself._

__"Good morning."

The quiet voice shocked Soren out of his early morning peace. He was usually the only one who was ever in the library so early so it was odd to see Xane sitting across from him, alert and wide awake.

"Good morning. What are you up so early for?" Soren asked, folding his journal closed so he could turn all his focus to the laguz.

"Nightmares," Xane answered nonchalantly. "But I do have a question as well."

"Oh?" Soren didn't comment on the nightmares. If Xane wanted to elaborate, he would.

"Well...I want to be of use. I can't transform and I can't fight so I was wondering you could perhaps teach me magic. I understand if you don't want to," Xane said, gnawing his lip nervously.

"Well I don't see why not. I've been neglecting my own practice so this will give me an excuse to get to work again," Soren said with a nod. "I would be happy to teach you."

Xan'es face lit up in an expression of delight he had never seen before on the laguz, and it warmed him inside. It seemed that Xane was recovering just fine from his ordeals and that pleased him to no end. He wanted to know what the old Xane had been like and perhaps, teaching the other would provide him with that chance.

"That's great! When do we start?" Xane was practically bouncing in his seat from excitement.

"Right now if you want," Soren told him. "I have nothing pressing to deal with so early, so it shouldn't be a problem.  
Xane glowed.

 

-.-

 

He and Xane had found an empty space to practice easily enough, and practice they did. The laguz had caught on amazingly quick, managing to tickle Soren's face with a slight breeze of wind after the first few tries. Once he had done that, Soren had dismissed him so he could get his own practice in. He had pushed himself harder than usual, and as a result, had nearly passed out from working too hard, leaving him unable to leave the room as he tried to get his strength back, at least enough to sit up.

"So this is where you've been," Stefan's voice said from the doorway.

Soren craned his neck up to see the sword master closing the door to the small living room before walking over to him, kneeling beside the mage's nearly motionless body.  
"Hello," Soren said. "Just give me a few minutes, I'll be able to move then."

Stefan raised a thin eye brow. "And just what, may I ask, were you doing that rendered you unable to move?"

"Practicing, more than I should have," Soren replied. "I let my practicing slow for awhile so I suppose I shouldn't have pushed myself as hard as I did. Forgive me."

Stefan shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "You are too much of an overachiever my friend. But unfortunately, I'm not here for a pleasurable talk. We seem to have a problem and according to Colm, it isn't a good one."

"What's wrong?" Soren asked, frowning.

"Meidan has gone missing. No one knows where he is and he isn't anywhere. I didn't see you either but I figured you were around somewhere. However, this is the last room to check and obviously he is not here. So this is quite a problem," Stefan said, sitting back on his heels with a frown of his own.

"I don't understand what the big deal is though. I mean, we're allowed to leave right?" Soren asked.

"Yes, but you're supposed to tell someone. A safety measure so in cases like these, we know if you're dead or not," Stefan said, sighing.

"But what about Colm? What did he say?"

"Well he seems to be convinced Meidan has gone off to reveal our location to some Branded-haters, which of course makes no sense. He's a Branded himself so if they hate those that are Branded, they would not work with him, even if he did have valuable information. But Colm always tends to have good reasons for these things so...I'm preparing everyone," Stefan told him.

Soren frowned. "I can't see Meidan betraying us. He's too kind for something like that."

"We all have our shields. Perhaps he truly has betrayed us," Stefan said softly. "And if he hasn't well, at least we had nothing to worry about. In case he has though, everyone has gone into lock down. Which means you and I will be staying here."

"Oh...I hope you brought food," Soren commented, taking the news calmly. Stefan was right; it was better safe than sorry, and for them, it was better to be paranoid then to have an army of angry people who hated them at their doorstep with no plan on how to stay safe.

"Yes, I did," Stefan told him, pulling out a fruit nut bar and putting it in his hand. "We have scouts watching for any intruders in the desert so we will have plenty of warning if we need it. We can always flee if it worse comes to worse."

"I still can't bring myself to believe he would do such a thing. Even with our experience with Nasir, I can't believe it," Soren said.

Stefan stretched out beside him as Soren ate. "Feelings can blind us. You were always suspicious of Nasir. Meidan hasn't given any of us reason to suspect him so if he has, it will be a shock to us all. If he has...he is quite the manipulator of emotions so I guess I have to give him credit for that."

"If he has I'll rip him to shreds," Soren commented. "He angered me the last time I spoke to him."

"What did he say?" Stefan asked, turning to look at him.

"He just…insulted Ike. He was convinced that Ike would eventually hate me for who I was and I just can't stand for something like that," Soren said.

"Meidan had a bad experience with humans. You must...allow him a little slack," Stefan said. "And only a little. It was still a very unkind thing for him to say."

"We've all had bad experiences. We have to move past them," Soren muttered.  
"Speaking of which. If you don't mind me asking, you mentioned when we first began traveling that you have scars. What are they from?"

Soren didn't answer at first. Not because he didn't want to, but because he wasn't sure of how to go about it. "My...instructor didn't like me much, after he discovered what I was. Some beatings included sharp objects and they left marks. Some disappeared as I got bigger, some didn't." He tried to remain as nonchalant as possible but it was hard, given the subject.

"I'm glad he's dead."

Soren snorted at Stefan's comment. "The world is better off without such a sour and unhappy man. I hope you don't pity me for what happened in the past."

"I don't know why I would. I empathize and I wish it never happened but...I won't pity you. It is like you said. We have to move past our bad experiences, other wise we could never be happy," Stefan said quietly. "Can you move now?"

Soren tested it and found he could sit up. The added energy from the food probably what was what helped him recover so fast and he was much more thankful now that Stefan had found him. "I don't want to try standing yet. I'll have to let myself relax a little while longer."

"Shall I keep you entertained until then?" Stefan asked, smirking when Soren flushed.

"I..."

"Stefan grinned. "I was only joking."

"I'm not sure if I want you to be," Soren mumbled, eyes avoiding Stefan's gaze completely.

"Oh?"

Soren bit his lip when one of Stefan's hands moved to his leg, stroking up and down, going higher each time. It stopped just before it reached where Soren _thought_  it was going, instead sliding around his lower back and rubbing his side soothingly. Stefan's forwardness surprised him. He had always thought Stefan was a serious no nonsense man, but with all the time he had spent with him, he had learned that it was the opposite. He was teasing and at ease, almost carefree, despite his burdens.

Stefan moved his other hand up and tossed Soren' hair over his shoulder before nuzzling his neck. His lips grazed the pale skin lightly, teeth sneaking out for a small nibble here and there. Soren's fingers dug into the carpet, the unfamiliar sensations that bombarded him making the even more unfamiliar feeling of pleasure zip through him in short bursts.

"I don't t-think this is helping me get my energy back," Soren said breathlessly.

"I can stop," Stefan said quietly. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes," Soren mumbled. "Well no, but I don't want to test my own limits. If you keep going, I don't know if I will want to stop."

Stefan caught his earlobe between his teeth and then let go, nuzzling him once more. "So, since we'll be here awhile, tell me more about yourself, things I don't know."

He was still nuzzling the mage's neck and his breath sent a wave of tingles through him, thoroughly distracting him from thinking coherent thoughts. That was probably the point though.

"Well, what do you want to know?" he asked shakily.

"How did you meet Ike?" Stefan asked, finally pulling away and giving Soren's high strung nerves a break.

"I was starving in Gallia. I couldn't speak, my teacher never taught me how to. A boy brought me food, a boy with blue hair. It was Ike. He never remembered the incident until I told him about it later," Soren said. "I guess that's why I fell in love with him. He was the first person who ever treated me with kindness so he was my savior, in a way."

"Makes sense."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"It's only fair," Stefan said with a shrug.

Soren gnawed his bottom lip nervously. "It's a bit of a touchy subject though."

"It's fine. I won't get angry this time." Obviously, the sword master had already guessed what Soren was going to ask, but if he was okay with it...

"Are you half lion laguz?" Soren asked softly, forcing himself to meet Stefan's gaze and not look away.

"Yes."

"So you're of Royal blood?"  
"No."

Soren raised an eyebrow. "But I thought Royal blood was lion."

"It is. But my parents were human. They weren't Branded."

"You're only confusing me," Soren said. "Explain everything, more."

Stefan closed his eyes and laid back again. "Well, the lion's blood is extremely diluted. The generation that the blood mixed was eight hundred years ago. It's been five generations since then and no one else was Branded, though they did have extended life periods. But I was."

Soren didn't speak, instead pushing Stefan's green hair back to reveal a small gold colored diamond on his forehead, the tips curving outwards at the top. Stefan's eyes remained closed and Soren, after a moment, replaced his hand with his lips, kissing the mark softly before moving to his lips and then pulling away completely.

"I'm glad you are. It's a selfish reason, but it means that I can live a happier life," he said quietly.

Stefan smiled, one of his eyes opening. "Selfish, maybe. But you've made it so I don't mind this life as a hermit as much as I used to. So maybe the reason your here in the first place is because I'm selfish as well."

"I guess it evens out then."

"I guess so."

 

-.-

 

Colm stared out at the horizon, trying to convince himself that what he saw was not true. But it was, unfortunately. Huge black wyverns were speeding towards them, and on their backs, black armored knights, knights from Daein. Which meant the two things he thought could go wrong had indeed gone wrong. The first thing was that Soren's heritage was what he thought it was. The second thing was Meidan knew what it was too and had gone crying to the people who would want to know the most.

"Dammit," he cursed. "I'm not letting this happen."

And with another curse, he disappeared into the hide out below, ready to inform the others that they had no choice; they had to leave.


	7. Chapter 7

Stefan stared at the thirty or so Branded that he had come to know over the years, heart heavy. The news he was to deliver would set their plans to become their own country who knew how far back and he didn't doubt that every single one of them would lose so much hope that it would make it almost impossible for them to make their dream come true.

"Colm has informed us that we have an entire unit of wyvern lords bearing down on us from Daein. We are skilled fighters, but even we cannot stand up to an entire unit of wyvern lords," he began. "So our only option is to flee as quickly as we can and hope to leave no traces."

"No. I refuse."

Stefan raised an eyebrow. He had expected opposition, but not from this person. Soren stared at him defiantly and Stefan was surprised to see that all of the others around him shared the same look.

"We can't let the rest of the world shove us around. If we do, when we finally become a country, they'll continue to walk all over us," Soren continued. "I'm the tactician. I can get us out of this."

"How?" Zachri, one of the dragon Branded twins asked. "There's 34 of us and 60 wyvern lords in a unit. We can't beat them, not without taking serious casualties."

"Just let me deal with it. I can protect us," Soren said firmly. "This hide out of yours is thrumming with magical power. I can divert some of the energy into blocking the entrances."

"I say we let him try," Mina spoke up. "I'm sick of running and I've called this place home for years now. I'm not going to be forced out of here."

Her words were followed by a chorus of agreements and Stefan resisted the urge to sight. He prided his group in their determination but he still wasn't sure if it was the wisest course of action. Soren wouldn't lie, not with the lives of a community at risk, so if he was saying he could protect them, he could.

"Well, I won't be a dictating tyrant. Who is for staying here and letting Soren try?" Stefan asked, knowing what the answer was already.

"We'll stay," Mina said.

"In that case, everyone get ready to fight, if we need to. Then relax as much as you can," Stefan ordered.

As they dispersed, Soren moved towards him, garnet eyes set in determination. He halted before him and sighed, the resolve crumbling a little as he wet his lips nervously.

"I am confident I can do this, but I will need your help," Soren told him. "After my practicing, I'm drained, so I need to tap into someone else's energy."

"Will mine be enough?" Stefan asked. He was more than willing to give it, if it meant that they would be saved.

"Xane will help too. I'll use his energy for the second part of my plan," Soren explained.

"Second part?"

"Not even wyvern lords can travel in a sandstorm."

 

-.-

 

Soren was seated on the ground, legs crossed and eyes closed. To his left was Xane, picking at bits of the carpet nervously and nearly sweating from fear. To his right was Stefan, though unlike Xane, he remained calm, at least outwardly, and the ease he seemed to radiate helped Soren focus so he wasn't so anxious that he'd lose control of his power. Colm was keeping tabs on how close the Daein forces were and last time he checked in, he had informed them that they were ten minutes away.

_No pressure,_  Soren thought, reaching out with his mind and linking to Stefan's. He heard Stefan's startled gasp beside him, not that he was surprised. Whenever people linked minds, they could both feel what the other was feeling and while Soren could block Stefan's feelings, Stefan couldn't so he got a full dose of fear, doubt, and apprehension. He couldn't do anything about that though so instead he linked and began to draw on his power.

He continued to do so until he was tingling with power and then closed the link, moving the now open link to the magic that hummed through the building's foundation. As soon as it touched, he felt the magic grow hostile, readying itself to lash at him. Quickly, he threw a shield up and then wrapped his own power firmly around it, subduing it firmly. It took a few heart pounding moments for the magic to stop struggling and Soren dropped his shields, casting the link out again. Unlike the hostile nature he had first encountered, the magic opened up willingly, ready to do whatever he bade it to.

Slowly, meticulously, he guided the magic to each of the entrances, constructing layer upon layer of magic. The work was harder than it seemed, for if he drained too much of the energy, the whole building would collapse and too little and with a well placed blow, the wyvern lords would cut through it. Finally, once he was satisfied with that, he broke the link and then immediately hooked into Xane. He felt himself swaying a little as he did so, growing weak despite the added energy, but forged on despite this. He drained Xane, as much as he dared anyways, and then spread his magic out into the desert, activating his wind magic as his hand closed on the wind tome he had with him. After using the rest of his magic, he released it, eyes opening before closing them again at the intense dizziness.

"Are we going to be okay?" Stefan murmured into his ear.

"Yes, we should be," Soren answered. "Xane, are you okay?"

"Yeah," the laguz mumbled. "I need to lay down."

"Me too," Soren agreed, finally opening his eyes again, feeling a little less dizzy.

Stefan was already standing and he bent over before picking Soren up easily, the action so smooth that Soren only suffered a minor spinning of vision as he did so. Xane got to his feet and before Stefan could offer his assistance, Xane shrugged him off.

"I'll be fine. Get Soren somewhere to rest," Xane said. "He's done more work than all of us."

"Hopefully it will be enough."

 

-.-

 

Soren fell asleep as soon as he hit the mattress. He hadn't intended to, it had just sort of happened. When he woke, Stefan was beside him, petting his hair absentmindedly, eyes closed with his hand moved through the black locks of hair. He seemed to notice that Soren was awake because he paused in his actions and looked down at him, a smile playing on his lips. It was that smile that informed Soren that they were safe, that his actions had saved them, at least temporarily, and that they could rest easy.

"So I succeeded?" he asked, wanting to hear it verbally.

"Yes. They battered against your protections and then headed off into the storm. Hopefully they died, and if not, well we can think of a better plan before they come back," Stefan said. "You did a great job, Soren. I don't know how we would have survived without you."

"Do...we even know why they came?" Soren asked.

"No. Yes, it is safe to assume that Meidan brought them here, but I don't know why, other than the fact that we're Branded. It just...isn't enough motivation when he is Branded too!" The frustration was thick in Stefan's voice and Soren pushed himself into a sitting position.

"This is Daein though," Soren pointed out. "They're known to be racist fools and to be fueled by hatred. Well, most of them. I'd say it is enough motivation."

Stefan was silent for several moments and Soren looked down, awaiting an answer anxiously. Finally,

"I just don't think it's that simple. Meidan wouldn't betray us for something like that. Sure, Daein has motivation, but Meidan has to be pushed by something else."

Soren didn't answer. They had won for now, he didn't want to complicate things at the moment, and he didn't want to think that Meidan's true motivation was that he hated Soren. So instead of thinking, he burrowed into Stefan's arms and closed his eyes, wishing for sleep.

"Colm might know. He hinted that he did but...it will take some time to get it out of him," Stefan murmured, sliding his fingers through Soren's hair absentmindedly.

"I just hope...it isn't because of me," Soren said quietly.

"It might be me."

Soren sat up, slowly of course, and gave him a puzzled look. "Why?"

"I am of royal blood, supposedly. Perhaps they found out and decided to come after me for it."

"But how? How could they find out if I'm the only one who knows? I swear, I didn't tell Meidan!" Soren stopped abruptly; it wasn't like him to freak out the way he was.

"I don't know. I'm just tossing out ideas, so no need to panic," Stefan assured him. "I know you wouldn't go around spreading my secrets." Their hands linked together as their eyes met, and through that Stefan communicated his complete trust to Soren.

"I...usually don't freak out so easily," Soren mumbled. "You do strange things to me."

"You're just tired. And I don't blame you. So with that said, I think you need to get some more sleep," Stefan told him firmly.

Soren nodded his agreement. "I'll need to be ready and as close to full power in case I'm needed again."

Stefan smiled and kissed him lightly, or at least, tried to. The light kiss turned heavy, though neither had tried to deepen it. Soren pressed closer as the kiss deepened, as close as he could without sending himself into a dizzy spell, and welcomed the other's warm tongue. Perhaps it was the self inflicted denial of satisfaction from their earlier encounter that drove Soren to worship Stefan's lips so greedily. Either way, it didn't matter. His body was demanding some form of satisfaction and he wasn't really in the mood, or the condition, to deny it.

The mage squeaked when Stefan's hand lightly moved over his crotch, and Soren blushed at his own reaction. No comment was made by the sword master, unless one counted the smirk against his lips as they kissed. The squeak cut off, turning into a moan as Stefan firmed up his grip. Soren writhed against him, his moans growing louder even though Stefan's mouth muffled him, at least for the most part. Shocked at his own volume, Soren attempted to quiet himself but it was at that moment, Stefan's hands dipped into his pants and firmly gripped his bare arousal.

He bucked his hips, gasping desperately into Stefan's mouth at the feel of a warm hand around his length. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he was okay with Stefan moving so quickly, but there was the urgency from before within him that drove him to let Stefan continue, to bring him the relief he so desperately wanted.

"You're much more vocal than I thought," Stefan murmured in his ear, the absence of his mouth allowing Soren's cries and wanton moans free. "It's quite attractive."

Soren shuddered in his arms as his length was squeezed and pumped with an expert touch, fingers teasing the slit every once and awhile to send jolts up and down his spine. Without even thinking about it, he rotated his hips, trying to get more contact as he gasped out Stefan's name. The sword master's words made him blush, and served to heighten his arousal, especially when he continued to whisper in Soren's ear all of things he would like to do with him, eventually. Finally, with a moan and a stammer of the sword master's name, the mage's smooth cock bucked, splattering them both with his seed as he shuddered in ecstasy.

Stefan waited until he was spent before slowly slipping out from beneath him. He was gone only a moment, returning with a clean pair of clothes for Soren. Boneless as he was, Soren could only sit and recover his breath as Stefan changed him out of his clothes and his own before finally slipping back into the bed beside him, cradling him lovingly.

"That was a little out of line," he said quietly, resting his chin on Soren's head.

"No worries," Soren said weakly, sleep trying to snatch at his mind. "I didn't mind. You...tend to make me feel things I never have before. I...don't mind the chance to explore them."

Stefan nuzzled his head and then gave him a soft kiss. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."


	8. Chapter 8

_Dear Journal_

_Day 19. Stefan and I are together now, which I've already said. And I have to say I am quite happy. But too many bad things have happened lately, and it makes my new found happiness bittersweet, sour. Meidan has betrayed us to Daein. They now know where we are located and yesterday, they sent Wyvern Lords after us. Using the power of the building we live in, I was able to put up shields and call up a sandstorm, effectively blocking them and making them lose their way. But of course, this does not mean they are done. We might have to relocate. If they bring mages next time, I alone am not strong enough to block them. I don't know why Meidan has betrayed us. I don't want it to be because of me. I pray that this is not all my fault._

"Soren?"

Soren closed his journal and turned to face the owner of the tentative questioning voice. It was Xane.

"Hello. What can I do for you?"

"Stefan has called another meeting and he told me to come get you," Xane said, stifling a yawn. The pink haired Branded had helped him a lot yesterday, loaning power to his workings and it was no surprise that it had taken it's toll on him.

"Did he say what it was about?" Soren asked, standing up and exiting the room, Xane close on his heels.

"No but I think we can guess. You're strong Soren, but if they come again we won't be able to keep them out," Xane mumbled, eyes glued to the ground.

"This is all a lot to deal with, isn't it?" Soren mused.

"That's an understatement. You won't be able to teach me much for awhile now." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. For all of his timid behavior, Xane was smart and he understood a lot more than what people gave him credit for.

"No. But once we have everything sorted out again, we can start back up," Soren assured him, growing quiet as they entered the library where everyone else had gathered.

Like before, Stefan stood on a table above them so everyone could easily see him. When Soren had woken up that morning, Stefan had given him a quick kiss and then departed, promising that they would have more time to talk later and that he had a lot of things to do before then. Soren could understand that; they were basically a country at war at this point which meant that there wasn't a lot of time to focus on other things.

"Yesterday we were lucky. Yesterday we had Soren who was experienced enough in the ways of magic to be able to block our enemies from harming us but tomorrow, Daein may send their own mages and we will be powerless to hold them back," Stefan said calmly. "We should relocate. We can move faster than an army, but not faster than Wyvern Lords or Falcon Knights. It doesn't look good. I want to hear what you all have to suggest."

"It's our only choice," Mina spoke up. Her lavender eyes were hard, determined. "I know it's hard but Daein will have to regroup and we need to take that time to get away. I know some of you want to fight until the end but if we do that, we won't have a country to make. We have to flee and live to fight another day."

One by one, more began to nod in agreement until finally, it was a unanimous vote to flee and hope for the best.

"But where will we go?" Colm asked, farther back then the rest, leaning against a chair with a dark expression on his face. "Meidan was one of us. He knows where we're likely to go, if we do flee. So where are we going to go? It'll be have to be somewhere Meidan doesn't expect and we don't want to start another war."

"If you want to go for unexpected I have the perfect place," Soren said, unable to believe what he was about to suggest as all eyes turned to him. "Let's go to Daein."

"Are you nuts?" The voice belonged to Stefan's little stalker and her green eyes were wide. "They'll kill us!"

"Not if we sneak around them," Soren said, a plan formulating in his head even as he spoke. "We can get in and hide out in one of the bigger cities, lie low for awhile and eventually leave again when they've forgotten about us. And while we're there we can pick up more Branded."

"How do you suggest we sneak?" Colm challenged.

"I haven't gotten that far. If I had more time I could come up with something but I don't. I'm not saying we should do just this. It's just a suggestion," Soren said.

For awhile they continued to debate on where they should go, eventually deciding on going to one place that Soren really hadn't expected. Kilvas. Kilvas, led by Naesala. It was just asking for betrayal but then again, because Naesala was notorious for back stabbing his allies, Daein wouldn't think they would go there. Now the only question was whether or not Naesala would accept them.

"There's only one way to find out," Stefan said, when the question was broached. "Take only what you need to survive. We'll hunt as we move. Bring water. That's what I want most of our burden to me. Meet back here in one hour."

Soren turned around only to come face to face with Colm, an unnaturally serious look in the thief's eyes conveying that what he was about to say was very important.

"Soren," Stefan said as he walked up behind him. "I'll come find you in your room in a few minutes. I have to organize somethings with the water supply and then you and I can talk. We won't get much private time to do so on our way to Kilvas."

"Colm wants to speak with us now," Soren told him. "He says it's really important."

Stefan raised a thin eyebrow and then nodded for Soren to lead the way to his room, following behind him closely. "I guess the other things can wait until later."

When they arrived at Soren's room, Colm was lying on the bed, but he sat up as soon as they entered, his gaze still as serious as before as he regarded them both. "Stefan, I'm going to answer your question now. Soren, I know your heritage. I knew your mother and so everything I am about to say comes straight from the source and is true. You might want to sit down."

"I'll stand," Soren said, an icy sort of anger rising up in his chest. He knew all this time and didn't say anything to me? Don't I deserve to know who my parents were? "Continue."

"You are the rightful heir to Daein. You are Ashnard's son. Your mother was a dragon laguz who Ashnard enslaved for his own...uses. When he found out she was pregnant, he exiled her quietly so that no one would know of his bastard son. She made her way to Gallia where I met her. She told me her story, gave birth to her son and died. I barely knew her and I didn't know what to do so I left you on a doorstep. I am at fault for...whatever may have happened to you," Colm said softly, eyes boring into Soren's red gaze, and in those eyes Soren saw the truth.

"So...I am the ruler of Daein. Technically," Soren said, feeling suddenly dizzy.

Stefan held his arm to keep him steady, staring at Colm. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I didn't think it was important. It's not like he can claim the throne now that we're on the run," Colm snapped, getting to his feet. "And it isn't like the country would stand for a Branded to be ruler."

"But this could be why they're after us! Damn it Colm! Did Meidan know about this?" Stefan demanded, releasing Soren in his anger.

So maybe it is my fault. Oh goddess. I should've never come here, Soren thought, backing away from them as the two continued to argue. Their words fell on deaf ears. With a muffled cry, Soren ran out the door, ignoring the cries of his name that followed after him and instead letting his feet carry him away to somewhere he could think. He ended up in Xane's room with the door shut and locked.

"Soren?" The pink haired laguz sat on his bed, a puzzled look on his face at Soren's crumpled and panting form before his door. "Soren what's wrong?"

"No!"

Xane started back, surprised to see the usually calm and in control mage out of control and to actually hear him curse; it was odd and it frightened him even more. "Soren?"

"I'm the heir to the throne of Daein."

Xane's eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip; well that wasn't what he expected to hear. "Soren-"

"And it's my fault that Daein is attacking. If I had just stayed home this wouldn't be happening to all these innocent people. It's all my fault. It's all my fault..."

"Soren no!" Xane protested, walking quickly over to the huddled mage and kneeling before him. "It might be part of the reason but we are Branded or...we've lost our powers. It can't be just you. Don't blame yourself for all of this. Daein is just a stupid country with stupid military leaders. It isn't our fault."

A knock at the door made Soren leap to his feet and dart away, glaring at the door with a baleful look in his red eyes as Stefan's voice called for him. Xane shot him a look and then opened it a crack, peeking out.

"I don't think now is the best time," he said quietly.

"Xane, let me in," Stefan ordered.

"Go away Stefan. I don't want to talk about this," Soren spat, staying far enough back that the sword master couldn't see him. "We need to focus on getting away from the army I'm bringing down on your heads, not our relationship problems. Go take care of your people. Please. Don't do this now."

"Soren..."

"You should go. He's right. We need to be prepared to leave," Xane said. "I'm sorry." He closed the door again and locked it, turning to face Soren. "You can wait here until he's gone."

Soren nodded and sat down on the edge of Xane's bed, still feeling a little dazed from what he had learned, and from Stefan's reaction. It really could be all his fault...

"Soren it isn't your fault okay?" Xane said, moving so he was right in Soren's view. "Stop being...so...stupid! I don't even know how Daein could get information that you are the heir. I mean...they would've come after you earlier if they had known, right? Ashnard probably would have singled you out if he had known! No one knows! It can't be your fault. You aren't thinking logically and that's not like you at all!"

It was probably the most the pink haired laguz had ever said at once and it served to get Soren out of his daze. "You're right. I'm being stupid. I need to pack and get ready and not worry about this right now."

"Exactly," Xane said, stepping back and smiling a little. "Now go and get ready. And talk to Stefan if it helps."

Soren nodded, patted the laguz on the shoulder once and stepped out into the hallway, only to run smack into Colm. "Hello."

"Nice of you to run out on us like that," Colm said, raising an eyebrow and grabbing Soren's wrist so he could better drag the mage down the hallway. "I have more to say, if you had bothered to stay and listen."

"I'm sorry. I was in a bit of shock," Soren snapped.

"Yeah, yeah, in you go," Colm ordered, shoving the mage inside his room and shutting the door. "Now. No one else is supposed to know about this but me. I was the only one who knew you existed to my knowledge. You show up here. I knew your mother. Meidan has gone off and hasn't returned and it's all been agreed that he is the one who betrayed us to Daein. At a first glance, these facts have absolutely nothing in common. But when one takes a closer look...Meidan had ample time to betray us. He never did until you showed up. I think it is your fault but I don't hate you for that because it isn't your fault."

"Thank you. I feel so much better now," Soren said dryly, sitting back down.

"You aren't getting the important part," Colm growled. "Meidan must know. Somehow. The only question is what are we going to do about it?"

"Well he already betrayed us," Soren muttered, slipping into tactician mode. It was better that way; he wouldn't have to focus on how he felt about the whole situation. "And if Meidan knows and Daein attacked us because of it, they know that I'm the heir and a threat to their military hold on the government. We would have to get proof out among the citizens that I am the heir if we wanted to do anything with my position. Start with rumors, slip in facts and eventually they can't ignore that everyone knows. If they attempt to kill me then, they'll lose their power because they killed the rightful heir. Of course this would take years of planning and careful manipulation but it is doable. If I eventually got the throne, I could do something about making Branded more excepted."

"That is of course assuming Daein knows all of this," Colm said. "And I have the perfect person we can contact. He can get us any information we need."

"Oh?" Soren mused. "Sothe. He's-"

"I know who he is," Soren said, remembering the green haired thief, who had apprenticed under Volke during their travels. "Yes, I have no doubt he can get us our information. Are we seriously going to do this?"

"Just think Soren. If we can get you in power, we're one step closer to defeating the prejudice that forces us into hiding!" The excitement shone through Colm's eyes for the first time since he had told Soren of his heritage. "But we'll need proof. And we'll need to be able to hide in Daein...without Daein realizing it."

Soren nodded. "I'll go talk to Stefan. The rest of the Branded need to move on to Kilvas but I will journey into Daien and contact Sothe."

"I'll go with you. I actually know where to find the man. And Stefan will come with us too, as I'm sure you've guessed." Colm opened the door and then paused, looking back at Soren with a contemplating look in his eyes. "I know I've shoved a lot on you Soren and I know you're going to need more time to think about this. But I think this is the best move for everyone. We could really make the world a better place if we get someone who cares in the throne."

Colm departed, leaving Soren alone for his thoughts while waiting for Stefan to return, who would show up undoubtedly at some point.  _Someone who really cares? Heh. Back during the war...I don't think I cared about saving anyone. I don't think I even felt at all. And now suddenly I care for these people. I want to make them happy and I want the world to be a better place for them, I want them to be expected. Before, I could want these things but I could never do anything. I didn't have the power. Now that the chance for power is there, I will have to take it, even if I'm not used to leading._   _Maybe I can do something..._

A knock at the door made him pause in his packing and Stefan walked in without waiting to be allowed. Soren looked away from him, a little ashamed of his earlier behavior, but willing to move past it. All things considered, Daein would've made a move against them eventually and he needed to move past the fact that the reason they had started so early was because of him.

"Soren I'm sorry," Stefan murmured, moving so he was right before the mage. "I shouldn't have implied the harm we have come to is your fault. It isn't-"

"Did Colm speak with you yet?" Soren asked, interrupting him as he looked up. "I want to go to Daein. I want to make things right. No, I'm not a power hungry fool. I'd be perfectly content to fade into the shadows if it weren't for the fact that Daein is being ruled by it's military and innocent people are going to get killed. I want to change things and now that I have the power to do it, I'll take it."

Stefan smiled down at him, a sheepish look on his face. "You would come back off this shock with a plan already worked out, wouldn't you? Are you sure this is what you want though? This is a hard path you're following."

"My life has been hard, Stefan. Being in love with Ike and knowing I couldn't have him was hard. Learning magic was hard. Things, challenges in life are hard and I'm better because of them. Maybe I can make the world better if I get through this challenge."

"I will go with you. I will send the rest to Kilvas, with Mina to lead them. She can take good care of them and I trust her to lead them well in my stead. Until I return. Because I will return eventually and turn them into the country they have always wanted to be," Stefan told him. "We will end this prejudice one day."

Soren stared up at his newfound lover as new hope filled him. Yes he was confused, yes he had had a lot of things thrust upon him all at once but perhaps he could come through. Looking into Stefan's eyes and seeing that hope and determination reflected right back at him, he liked to think so.

 

-.-

 

"The very filth they were sent to capture thwarted the Wyvern Lords from killing a single Branded! He's not in our hands."

"I...I am sorry sire."

"Pheh. Who else knew, boy? Who else knew of his heritage?"

"...one thief. That is all that I know of. A woman knew that he was of black dragon blood but nothing else."

"And you left him alive?"

"I didn't think he would be a problem."

"But now that an attempt on them has been made, now he might just open his mouth. And guess who will have to silence him before he does?"

"...I will sire. I can do it. I swear it."

"You better. If you don't bring me back his head, it will be yours."

"Yes sire."


	9. Chapter 9

_Dear Journal,_

_Day 37. We have almost made it into Daein territory. Colm has gone on ahead to get ahold of Sothe and bring him to where we are hiding out. Sothe has his own forces, according to Colm, that are working against Daein's corrupt leaders. It appears we will have more help than I originally thought, though I'm worried about how long this will take. And if people get wind of the fact that I am the true leader, and word gets back to Ike...I don't know what will happen. If Crimea and Daein end up in another war because of me..._

"Soren! Wake up!"

Soren flipped the journal closed quickly, securing it in the folds of his robes before opening the rotting door to reveal Xane. They had taken refuge in an abandoned station house on the border of Daien and Begnion for the night while Colm went out to find Sothe.

"What is it?" Soren asked.

"Troops. They're coming through the forest. Knights, calvary, archers, mages, so many I-"

"Calm down," Soren said firmly, seizing Xane's shoulders. "Is there somewhere I can go to survey the situation?"

Xane nodded, whirling around before sprinting down the hallway. Soren hurried after him, nearly tripping up the stairs as Xane led him up a winding stair case to a debilitated tower. Soren peeked through the window and realized that their enemies were not making any effort to hide themselves. Torches lit up the field between them and the forest, and he could easily see that they were surrounded on all sides.

"Where's Stefan?" he demanded.

"Right here," Stefan said as he finished coming up the stairs. "What's the plan?"

"Just because I'm a strategist doesn't mean I'm a genius," Soren snapped, though the anger was forced. "Our best option would be to sneak out, but they have us surrounded. We'll have to cut a path, quickly, before they have a chance to react."

"So let's give them a little surprise," Xane piped up. "You and me Soren. Let's scare the horses."

Soren narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Just some lightning. Bonus points if you actually hit them," Xane said. "They may be trained for battle, but when the lightning is constant, any beast will get scared and run."

"Sounds like a plan. Stefan, Xane, head downstairs. Be ready to run once I cut a path," Soren said.

"We aren't leaving you behind," Stefan said.

"I know you aren't. But I need to see if I'm going to scare all of them. Then Xane and I will continue the disturbance as we run," Soren said. "I will be down in a moment. Don't worry."

Xane nodded and headed down the stairs while Stefan fixed him with a hard stare. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I like being a live too much for that," Soren said, leaning forward and giving him a quick kiss. "Now go."

He turned around and raised his arms above his head, calling down a blast of lightning to destroy the wall in front of him so he had a clearer shot. Sure, it exposed him to archers, but they would be too distracted in a moment to do anything. It was hard, calling upon so much magic when he was still fatigued from the workings he had done back in the desert, but his determination kept him from faltering.

With a huge crack of thunder, lightning split the sky, raining down among the troops. The shouts of pain and the cries of distress let him know he had met his marks, but it wasn't quite enough. He moved his arms in a quick circle, conjuring up a small tornado. The next spell was going to be tricky, but was quite doable after practice. Keeping the rotation steady, he called lightning down once again, focusing it in on the tornado and capturing the electricity before it could diffuse, forcing it to follow the rotation of the wind. He let the power grow, bring down more bolts of lightning to keep the troops confused and distracted. With a grunt of effort, he pushed the tornado out, letting it loose.

The mage bolted then, turning and rushing down the stairs. The mini tornado, laced with deadly lightning was free to do as it wanted, but it wouldn't last forever. They had to move fast. He burst out of the building and Stefan's hand caught his, tugging him across the ground. Xane was in front, blasting back anyone who tried to get in their way with small wind bursts. Stefan released his hand to jump over Xane, sword flashing as he cut down several warriors.

Soren shot a glance over his shoulder, letting a small burst of fire flee from his finger tips to scare off a knight attempting to run him down. A clamor from the front brought his attention back and he nearly stumbled when he saw Sothe jump down from the trees, landing on top of a man and knocking him off his horse. Sothe kept the horse as calm as he could, then extended a hand to Soren. The mage took it, grunting as Sothe tugged him up none to gently onto the horse.

"You're lucky Colm found us," Sothe muttered, wheeling the horse around and crashing through several foot soldiers. "The rest will meet us back at the base. We have to make sure we aren't followed."

 

-.-

 

Soren felt close to passing out as Sothe led him through the twisted hallways of his hideout, leading him lower and lower into the ground. He was reawakened, at least momentarily, when they entered a brightly lit room where Stefan, Xane, Colm, and a few others he didn't recognize were sitting. Stefan's torso was bandaged and his shirt was off, the bandage already red with blood.

"What did you do?" Soren demanded, striding towards the green haired man.

"Ah-ah-ah, careful. I'm injured," Stefan said as he grabbed Soren's wrist, tugging him down so he could place a small kiss on his forehead. "Just a scratch, I'll be fine in the morning."

"You're bleeding through your bandage!"

"Ahem," Sothe coughed. "Soren. I want to introduce you to my team. This is Nolan, Micaiah, Edward, and Leonardo. They are members of the Dawn Brigade. We do what we can do help the poor in Daein but..."

"We will help you in anyway we can," Micaiah, the silver haired girl, said. "We want peace in Daein just as much as you do, and we're honored that you would ask for our help."

Soren shot Colm a puzzled look, but the thief gave a subtle shake of his head. No questions.

"Thank you," Soren said. "It is best to plan our next move tomorrow, if we are safe." The statement was posed as a question as he looked back at Sothe.

"We are safe here. You will find appropriate sleeping quarters down the hall, third door on the left. Xane, yours is the fourth door," Sothe said. "We will meet tomorrow morning then."

The group filed out of the room, but before he could turn to leave, Sothe shut the door so Soren couldn't leave, leaning back against it with a pointed look in his green eyes.

"Colm told me who you are. You aren't going to breath a word of it to anyone else," Sothe said. "Micaiah and the others believe Pelleas to be Ashnard's son, and as of right now, I'm not sure who I'm going to believe. It would make sense if you were as you are Branded but...we'll deal with that when the time comes."

"Pelleas?" Soren asked.

"Too much information for you right now. We'll be meeting up with him and his guardians tomorrow anyways. Now go get some rest." Sothe stepped forward so he could open the door. "You look like you're going to faint, and I don't want to have to carry you."

"I can do that," Stefan said, breezing through the door.

"Absolutely not," Soren snapped. "You're injured."

"Okay bye," Sothe said, shutting the door behind them as they exited into the hallway.

"You aren't carrying me," Soren said as he walked down the hall.

He opened the door, holding it open for Stefan. Stefan yanked it out of his grip, shutting the door and locking it before taking two striding steps towards Soren. A gasp escaped Soren before his lips were covered by the taller man's. His hands fluttered nervously on Stefan's bare shoulders, unsure if it was safe to grab them, so he settled for wrapping his arms tightly around his neck as the swordsman's hands slipped down to his hips, tugging him close.

_"_ Thought I was going to lose you," Stefan murmured against his lips. "Don't do anything crazy like that ever again. Promise?"

Soren didn't reply, knowing it wasn't a promise he could make. Instead, he gave Stefan another kiss and then sat down on the small bed, pulling the swordsman down with him. Stefan pulled back the covers, nuzzling his neck as he worked them both underneath the soft sheets. Sighing, Soren curled into the man's chest and drifted to sleep.

 

-.-

 

The next morning found Soren at a table with Stefan, Colm, and Sothe. The door was locked to prevent them from being disturbed by the rest of the group.

"This is going to be very difficult to pull off without Micaiah knowing," Sothe said. "I don't know how we're going to get you in a position to seize the throne other than throwing you right out into the middle of the biggest city and screaming that you're the rightful heir. It just won't work. We are not an army. We would have to get rid of Begnion's army and the rising Daein army."

"Wait, what?" Soren interrupted. "Daein has an army?"

"We have a so-called King too," Sothe said, rolling his eyes. "His name's Kailgua. He was a general in Daein's army and is acting King until they can find one that is actually an heir by blood. Except he's only looking for those heirs so he can kill them."

"Well, now we know who Meidan was working for," Colm said.

"Not now," Stefan said quietly. "So, this Palleas. Does he look like Ashnard's son?"

Sothe smirked. "Not at all. His hair is as blue as Ike's. On looks alone, it's not hard to believe that you are his son. Not to mention, there are portraits of the woman he enslaved. She looks quite a bit like you. No, it won't be hard at all to convince the public that you are the rightful heir, once we are in the position to do so."

"Speaking of," Colm broke in. "How are we going to go about that?"

"I cannot see a single way for me to get the throne without charging in with an army," Soren murmured. "We can spread rumors to start off. Let people know that the true heir is alive, a man of dragon descent."

"That's good," Sothe said. "Micaiah has received some publicity for her powers, though it is unwanted and we're trying to hide it. If we were to start the rumors going, and keep them going, it wouldn't be long before the idea of a true heir was planted firmly in their heads."

"But," Soren continued. "Even if the people believe me to be their rightful King, I would still have to come out in public and say it. We will need an army to get me to the capitol. We will need an army to protect the countryfolk. It is impossible to win over the people if we are just another group of fighters. We need to protect them, gain ground back from Begnion and Daein forces, and do what we can to help the people we encounter. And every time we come in contact with opposing forces, we will need to announce that the true heir is on his way to his throne."

"Which...we can't do," Sothe said. "We don't have an army, and I don't think Micaiah and the others would take well to someone other than Palleas being the heir."

Soren bit his lip, thinking hard. "We will have to split up from you then. I need to do this Sothe, with or without your troops."

"I don't like that," Sothe said. "You would've been killed if it hadn't been for us last night. How will you survive longer than a few days? The fact that Kailgua is hunting you down means he knows you are the heir. He has not made a single attempt on Palleas's life, and yet here you are, a few miles into Daein and you're being hunted down by an entire army. No, you need to stay with us."

"We have to agree with Soren on this one. We can't interfere with the work you're doing. One day, we will meet again. When Palleas challenges Soren, we can fight it out," Stefan said, getting to his feet. "I think this discussion is over."

"So you are just going to accept that we will meet in war against one another? Don't be stupid," Sothe scoffed.

"Tell me, Sothe. How confident is this child that he is the rightful King? If he believes he is the right one, as firmly as we believe Soren is, we will meet in war over this. For now, we will have to continue our separate ways. Whether or not you want to join us...is up to you," Stefan said as Soren and Colm both stood.

"I can't leave Micaiah. I'm sorry. I wish it didn't have to end this way," Sothe said.

"Things happen. We'll just have to work around them. Thank you, Sothe. We owe you a lot," Soren said. "Now, we've overstayed our welcome."

 

-.-

 

Sothe as nice enough to lend them a map, so by dusk, they had reached a small town. The streets were mostly quiet, only a few people walking here or there, and most of the windows were shuttered, letting only small beams of light escape. Stefan led the way into the inn, stopping before Soren could walk in.

"Colm, get us two rooms. You and Xane can share. Soren, can I talk to you for a moment?" Stefan's voice was tight, and Soren's eyes narrowed as Stefan pushed him back into the street.

"Stefan, what's this about?" Soren asked, craning his neck to try and see inside the inn, only to have Stefan block his way.

"I thought I should give you fair warning of what waits for you in there. Ike is there."

Soren felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. "Why? Why would he be here?"

"We could always ask?" Stefan said.

"I can't do that! I can't face him, Stefan! Are you crazy?"

"Shh, calm down Soren. He's an ally, and he's here, we have to talk to him. You have to talk to him. You can do this. You'll be fine," Stefan murmured, drawing the mage close. He kissed the top of his head. "Now go and talk to him. I'll have Colm give you a key to our room, and you can come join me after you talk."

Soren nodded, knowing that Stefan was right. "Okay."

Soren waited a moment after Stefan had walked back in before going in himself. He was lucky; Ike was sitting at a table near the fireplace with his back to him, so he would have the upper hand when he greeted him. Colm nodded from by the stairs but didn't move towards him. Once again, Soren found his eyes narrowing. So Stefan had told Colm not to give him the key until he talked to Ike. Just perfect.

Legs stiff, Soren made his way over towards the blue haired knight, keeping his face composed as he sat down at the stool across from him. Ike looked up, his expression an open book. Shock and relief mingled on his face in an odd mixture, making it look like he was in pain.

"Soren? What...what are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same," Soren said.

"I...have a job here," Ike said. "There's ten of us staying here. We're going to go take down a group of bandits tomorrow morning."

"And the Begnion troops actually stand for it?"

"Mercenaries are allowed to be hired still. They don't make much of a fuss."

"Hey, Soren. Here's your key," Colm said, dropping the heavy brass key on the table. "Sleep well."

"Thank you," Soren said, pocketing the key. "I honestly didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah well, I didn't think I was ever going to see you again either," Ike said. "So, are you going to tell me what you're doing here, or are you going to just keep avoiding the question?"

"That obvious, was I?"

"Soren..."

Soren flinched when Ike moved a hand across the table. "Look, Ike. I can't discuss this here. It's too open, and the information regarding why I am here is too sensitive to talk about. But I could use your help."

Ike's blue eyes softened further. "Of course I'll help you. Tomorrow, after we finish our job, we can meet here and go somewhere to talk. But could you at least...tell me what's happened since you left?"

"I've joined up with a group of Branded. They've been quite nice, barring a few...incidents. I'm happier."

"I'll try not to take offense to that," Ike said with a smile. "Soren...I still..."

"No. Let's not talk about that. It's in the past," Soren said.

"Alright. Promise you aren't running away this time?"

"People have been asking me to promise a lot of things lately. I can say I promise to this one though. I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow, at noon. You better not run away either."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Ike's eyes met his and Soren stood up, unable to look at him any longer. He managed to stay dignified as he climbed up the stairs, but once at the top, he checked the number on his key and practically ran to the room. After several failed attempts to unlock the door, Stefan opened it. Soren took one look at him and began to weep, just a few small tears.

"Oh come on now," Stefan said, tugging him forward into his chest as he shut the door.

"Goddess Stefan. I didn't think facing him was going to be so hard."

Stefan rubbed his back and led him to the bed to sit down, removing his thick robes as he spoke.

"He was just so sad, and I was the one that hurt him, after everything he's done for me, I left him with no real excuse and I-"

Soren stopped when Stefan kissed him. The swordsman gently wiped away the remaining tears, then pulled back to look him in the eye. "Stop being foolish, Soren. You did nothing wrong. He is an amazing man, but no one to cry over. He's a big boy. He can handle himself just fine."

"I know. I'm just...overreacting."

Stefan smiled and finished helping him out of his thick outer clothes before taking off purple jacket and black shirt, leaving his chest bare save for the bandages. Soren swallowed thickly, staring at the near bare chest as the lamplight flickered. The smile on Stefan's lips changed a little, going from gentle to mischievous in barely a moment.

"What's that look for, hm?"

"I um..."

Stefan knelt before him, wiggling his way between Soren's legs. It put him and Soren at the same height, and he leaned forward, that same smirk on his lips as he kissed him. His hands moved to Soren's slim hips, and he tugged him forward so he was flush against the swordman's bare chest.

"Ah, Stefan," Soren gasped into his mouth.

Stefan didn't reply, only slipping his tongue to dance with the mage's. One of his hands slipped up beneath the light tunic that covered Soren's torso, and he ran his fingers over the mage's spine, teasing Soren into bucking against his chest. Which only served to bring on a whole other set of feelings. Stefan broke the kiss to finish tugging the tunic off of Soren's head and began to tug at the strings that held his breeches together.

"Stefan, what are you doing?" the mage managed to ask.

"Making you forget any thought of Ike that ever entered your head," Stefan said, his cocky smirk reappearing.

Soren was about to ask again, but the swordmaster had found his goal, lightly wrapping his hand around the mage's bare cock as he pulled it out of its confines. Soren fell back, catching himself on his elbows as Stefan began to kiss at his stomach, hands working over his length slowly. A cry escaped Soren's mouth as Stefan ducked his head, licking the tip in a teasing manner.

"That's good," Stefan murmured. "I want to hear you."

Without another word, he slipped more of the mage's arousal into his mouth. Soren bit down on his hand, muffling his sound despite Stefan's words. He had never felt anything like the wet heat that was surrounding his length in such a perfect manner, sucking just the right amount as a warm hand massaged whatever wasn't within his lover's mouth.

Stefan released him for a moment, reaching a hand up to Soren's mouth. "Suck."

Soren obeyed without complaint, slipping the swordmaster's well weathered fingers into his mouth. His eyes slipped close as Stefan's other hand pumped him, and he found himself mimicking the man's motions with his tongue, sliding up when the hand did, then licking back down. Stefan groaned low in his throat, moving up to nip at Soren's neck, making the mage moan around the fingers inside his mouth. The sight of the mage sucking so urgently on his fingers was making him hard enough that he was having trouble controlling himself.

Finally, he pulled his hand away, taking in the sight of Soren's flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. Then, without another word he ducked back down, taking the mage's cock back into his mouth as he slid his now wet hand down his lover's chest. He toyed briefly with Soren's nipples before continuing back down to his goal. His wet finger lightly probed at the mage's entrance.

The reaction stunned him. A deep moan left Soren's throat, and his legs jerked at the sensation. He pressed a little harder, looking up to watch as Soren's eyes rolled back, mouth open as he panted. Urged on by how much pleasure his lover was in, he slipped the rest of the mage's cock down his throat, enjoying the sound of Soren's low hum of pleasure. He never fully breached the mage, just toying with his entrance, but in another few moments, Soren's hips jerked up and he began to come, Stefan's name falling from his lips like a prayer.

Soren was too dazed to respond as Stefan kissed him once more, accepting the man's tongue and the odd flavor of himself in the swordmaster's mouth. When he was once again able to think, he had found that Stefan had already tied his breeches back up and was holding him close, peppering his neck with small kisses.

"Stefan," he murmured, pulling himself close to the man's heat, then blushing as he felt Stefan's arousal pressed tight against his thigh.

"Ah," Stefan hissed, biting down on the mage's neck.

His reaction sent Soren's hips knocking into his, making his own arousal harder to ignore.

"You don't have to worry about me," he managed to say after a moment.

Soren pulled away, eyes uncertain. "But I want to."

Stefan tucked his head into Soren's neck as the mage's trembling hands caressed his side, slipping lower and lower until he was toying with the strings that held his breeches together. Finally, the strings were pulled apart and Soren slipped his hand inside, fingers lightly grazing the man's length. Stefan groaned, unable to keep his hips from pushing up into Soren's touch.

The mage pushed Stefan onto his back, propping himself up on his side as he continued to pump the man's larger length. His eyes watched Stefan's expression as he stroked, looking for signs that he was going it right. Before long, he had straddled Stefan's thighs so he could work both of his hands over the man's cock, grasping with just the right strength.

"That's perfect," Stefan breathed, reaching up to pull Soren down.

The kiss was sloppy and wet as Stefan bucked his hips into Soren's willing grasp, not that Soren seemed to mind. It didn't take much longer for Stefan to come, most of his seed landing on Soren's hands. The mage sat up as Stefan bathed in the afterglow. The older's eyes widened as he watched Soren lick up some of his seed off his hand only to laugh a little at the mage's surprised frown.

"Doesn't taste that good, does it?" he mused, grabbing a spare pillow sheet and handing it to the mage to wipe his hands off on.

"Not really. I can't believe you swallowed that," Soren said honestly.

He let himself be tugged back down beside the swordmaster, lying his head on top of the man's shoulder as he ran his fingers through the younger's hair. Soren sighed contentedly.

"Thank you, Stefan. I..."

"Don't thank me. I do this because I want to," Stefan said, kissing his cheek. "You're important to me, and I want to make you feel good. Even if it is partially motivated by jealousy."

Soren snorted. "You have nothing to be jealous of."

"I know. I know you're mine. And I also know I'm not letting you go anytime soon," Stefan said, looking down at him sternly.

"Good. I have no intention of letting you walk away from me."

 

-.-

 

The next morning, Soren was awakened by a soft kiss on his brand mark. Stefan was already dressed and freshly bathed, which he could tell by the pleasant scent. He craned his neck up to kiss the man's lips before sitting up, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"I need to meet Ike downstairs at noon. How much time do I have?"

"No thinking about Ike while I'm in the room," Stefan said, a playful smile on his lips.

Soren shoved him back so he could stand up. "Seriously."

"You have a few more hours. I think Xane wanted to practice magic with you before hand. It might help clear your head too," Stefan said. "Though I worry about the townsfolk seeing. We don't want to attract their attention needlessly."

Soren rolled his eyes. "I'm aware. We'll be careful. Thank you, though."

Stefan smiled and gave him one last kiss before leaving the room. The mage went to the connecting bathroom, smirking a little when he saw that Stefan had already filled it with clean hot water. The bath was much needed after so many days of travel, and he found himself almost drifting back off to sleep once he was done cleaning himself. Finally, he pulled himself out of the water, drying off quickly and whisking his hair into some semblance of order with a leather band.

A crash from downstairs sent the mage flying out of the bathroom, tugging his robes on quickly and securing them with his blue sash. Seconds late, Colm and Xane flew through the door, locking it quickly. Xane seized the dresser and shoved it in front of the door.

"What's going on?" Soren demanded.

"Not important right now," Colm said, moving over to the window and kicking it open. "Stefan's buying us time. We've gotta go."

Soren didn't hesitate, leaping after the thief who had flung himself out of the window and onto a tree branch. His feet slipped out from beneath him as he landed on the branch, but Colm seized the front of his robes, hauling him up to stop him from falling. Heart in his throat, he descended the tree as quick as he could behind the thief, looking up to see Xane following after him.

Once they hit the ground, Colm took off running towards the forest. Seemingly out of nowhere, a man dropped down from the trees, a grin on his face.

"Looks like I found the prince. I'm going to be a hero," he said, drawing his sword.

"I don't think so," Soren said. "Colm, Xane, keep going."

"Are you nuts? They're after you," Colm hissed.

"I'll only be a moment," Soren said, shoving Colm out of the way.

Colm shook his head but then grabbed Xane's hand, tugging him away into the shadows of the trees. Soren edged around so that he didn't have his back exposed to the inn where the sounds of more fighting could be heard.

"So, who sent you?" he asked the gruff looking man.

"Why the King's general himself! Said your princely head would fetch a fair price," the man said.

"Ah, I see. So common mercenaries. What's the name of the general then?" Soren asked. Was the man really so dumb as to answer all of his questions.

"General Angyd, you blasted idiot!"

Apparently he was.

"Well, you've outlived your usefulness," Soren said. "Good night."

"Wha-"

Soren snapped his hand forward, sending a slicing gust of wind forward. His body protested the use of power, but he braced his legs firmly to keep himself standing. The wind cut open the man's chest, nowhere near fatal, but enough to get his point across. Another flick of his wrist and he had cut open the man's legs to stop him from standing once more.

"Tell your general that the new King is not to be taken lightly," Soren said. "And that I will cut him down."

"But you-"

Soren kicked the man in the head, watching the man's eyes roll back in his head and his mouth go slack. His knees buckled then and he fell to the ground, hand grasping at his chest as his lungs tightened. He had overexerted his limits too many times in the last few days, and his body was practically screaming at him to stop.

The sound of a shattering window brought his attention back to the present and he looked up to see Stefan diving out of the window. The green haired man's eyes narrowed when he saw Soren was still on the ground, and in no state to start running.

"Where's Colm?" he demanded, glancing over his shoulder as the inn door crashed to the ground.

"Back in the forest," Soren gasped out.

"Dammit. Can you move at all?"

"N-no," Soren muttered. "Just give me a moment."

"We don't have a moment," Stefan growled, seizing his arm and pulling him to his feet as several men wielding axes and lances poured out of the inn.

"Soren! Stefan! Duck!"

Both obeyed on instinct, and in the next moment, a horse flew over their heads. Soren watched as Mist drove her horse straight into the mess of warriors, wielding her sword with a practiced hand as she cut the men down. Her horse reared, hooves cracking against a man's skull and sending him bleeding to the ground.

Soren had known Mist was a good fighter, but the improvement she had made was impressive. She and the horse moved together, as if timing their moves for maximum damage. Barely a moment later, the threat was gone, with Mist sitting astride her horse in the center of the collapsed bodies. She gave her horse a nudge and made her way over to Soren and Stefan. As Soren and Stefan stood, she dismounted her horse, expression growing angry as she strode towards the mage.

"Mist, I-"

Her hand cracked across his face and his eyes widened in surprise.

"That's for leaving without saying goodbye! And this-" She smacked him once more. "Is for making Ike a moping git for the last month."

"Alright, he might've deserved the first one, but the last one is certainly not his fault," Stefan said, drawing Soren close as if to protect him from more of Mist's wrath.

"Oh get off of him," Mist said, shoving the man aside before tackling Soren in a hug. Soren stumbled, not fully recovered, but the small girl kept him standing with her strong grip. "I missed you."

"I um, missed you too," Soren said, hugging back tentatively.

"Now, care to explain what's been going on?"

Soren turned to see Ike standing at the edge of the forest, looking at Soren pointedly. Shinon stood to his left, and Oscar on his right. "That's what I was going to discuss with you today, though I feel that we should go somewhere safer."

"I agree," Stefan said. "It only took them a day to catch up with us with these mercenaries. The army can't be far behind."

"Way to go, you snot-nosed brat. Leave our sight for a month and you get a damn army coming after you," Shinon scoffed. "Well, let's go then. I am not in the mood to take on an army."

Stefan wrapped an arm around Soren's waist, pressing his lips to his ear. "Can you walk?"

"I don't know," Soren said. "Not quickly."

"No matter then," Stefan said, and in the next moment picked the small mage up. "We will rendezvous with Colm a mile away from here. He scouted out an old bandit hideout last night that we were going to use to hide in, in case something like this happened."

"Why do you do these things without telling me?" Soren asked.

"Not the time," Stefan said, moving past Ike and the others to lead the way. "So, why did you not run with Colm? I told him he was to make it very clear that you were to runaway."

"I needed to get information. The dumb brute decided to give it to me, and I couldn't just let him chase after me," Soren said.

"So you overexerted yourself. Goddess, Soren."

"How did you find us?" Soren asked, directing the question at Mist who was leading her horse alongside them.

"We were on our way back from the bandit's hideout, and a woman came running over to us about a half mile away, yelling that the inn was being attacked," Mist said. "So I reached you first, and the others were on their way as quick as they could to back me up."

"Is it only the four of you?"

"I thought we weren't discussing anything until we found shelter?" Shinon cut in.

"Shinon," Ike sighed. "Please. The four of us were coming back, but Boyd, Gatrie, Titania, Rolf, and Rhys were going to stay behind for a little while and make sure that there were no more bandits hiding."

"Should I go back and tell them where we are?" Mist asked.

"Make sure you aren't followed," Soren said.

"Don't worry," Mist said.

"I'm serious," Soren persisted. "They've been tracking us easily for the past three days. They must have some better than average trackers, so be careful."

"Soren, calm down," Mist said, mounting up on her horse. "See you guys soon."

 

-.-

 

The old hideout was perfect. The door was mostly concealed by bushes, and it opened into a narrow stairway. Even if they're pursuers did find the door, they would have a difficult time getting down the stairs without anyone hearing them. At the bottom of the stairs there was a small room, with an iron door at the end. Once they were through that, they were in a much larger room. A small table was set up, with various barrels and old stools around it to act as chairs.

"Deadbolt the door," Colm said, gesturing.

Oscar turned and did as instructed. Once everyone was seated at the makeshift table, Soren cleared his throat, wondering if his story would be believable, at least to Ike and Oscar. He already knew Shinon wouldn't believe a word he said, not that he really cared.

"I don't think it would be right for me to dance around the subject, so I'll just come right out and say it. I am the heir to the throne of Daein, at least the only blood heir," Soren began. "Ashnard had several concubines, one of which was a dragon laguz. She was my mother, and Ashnard was my father. She fled to Gallia after he exiled her, for he didn't want to have to deal with a bastard son, and a Branded one no less."

"You're what?" Shinon asked, eyes narrowing.

"Do  _not_  start a fight, Shinon," Stefan spoke up. "Keep your mouth shut if all you have to say is prejudice idiocy."

"But he's a fucking disgusting little animal! Dammit! I always knew there was something wrong with you," Shinon snarled as he jumped to his feet.

Soren didn't react, instead staring the red headed sniper down.

"Shinon, calm down. Now is not the time for this," Ike said quietly. "Just sit down."

"How can you all just-"

Shinon crumpled the next instant, for Stefan had leapt across the space between them to smack his sword hilt over the man's head to knock him unconscious.

"Continue, Soren," Stefan said, taking Shinon's now unused seat.

"As I was saying, Ashnard exiled my mother. I learned recently from Colm of my heritage, after we were attacked by Daein forces. Instead of running away, we have decided to make our way into Daein and take the throne back. I think it is apparent from the army that is following me, that the current King of Daein is also aware that I am the true heir, otherwise he would not be hunting me down so vigorously."

"You seem to be taking this rather well," Oscar said.

"I've had awhile to adjust to the knowledge," Soren said. "Now, Ike, do you see why I need your help?"

"You need an army," Ike said. "We're only a few people, Soren. We'll do what we can to help, but that's not saying much."

"Don't you have a reputation to worry about?" Colm spoke up, gaze cynical.

"Ike has never cared much for his reputation," Oscar said. "And it has been made quite clear to all nations that what the Greil Mercenaries do has absolutely no affiliation with what the Crimean throne believes."

"So, with that out of the way, can we depend on your help, Ike?"

Ike looked away. "I can't make a decision without first talking it over with the rest of the group. I can let you know once we discuss it further. You have laid a heavy burden on us, Soren."

"I am sorry for that, but I wouldn't ask you unless I had no other option."

Ike looked back at him. "I will wait here for the rest of them to show up. I can come find you once we are done talking things over, if that is alright?"

Soren nodded, getting to his feet slowly. "We will talk later."


	10. Chapter 10

_Dear Journal,_

_Day 40. Ike might join up with us on our journey to the capitol to reclaim the throne. It will be a little odd, teaming up the with the people I ran away from, but I hope they will forgive me in due time. Shinon's reaction to the fact that I was Branded was not surprising, though I did feel a little...odd about it. Even though it was expected, the words still sting I suppose. This King Kaligua is making every effort to kill me. The fact that I continue to elude him must make him angrier, not that that's a bad thing. The angrier people are, the more foolish their actions._

"Soren, Ike has made his decision," Stefan said as he entered the small storage room Soren had picked out as a resting place.

The mage closed the thin volume and tucked it away. "Then I guess we should go see what it is."

When they reached the first meeting room, all of the members of the Greil Mercenaries were present, making Soren's heart rise once more to his throat. Before Soren could say anything to any of them, however, Ike rose to his feet.

"We've decided to help you, Soren. Regardless of what you may think, you are still a member of our family, and we will do what we can to help you," Ike said.

"That...makes me very happy," Soren said.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, we should talk strategy," Colm said, smacking his hand down on the table.

As if that was the signal, everyone took a seat around the table, though Titania and Boyd remained standing due to the lack of working chairs. Soren reached into his cloak to produce the map of Daein. On it, he had marked the capitol, where they were now, where they had been hiding out several nights ago, as well as Sothe's base. Sothe had been kind enough to put dots at every town between them and the capitol.

"Reclaiming the throne is the easy part," Soren said, slipping into his strategist mode. "It's winning the hearts of the people that will be the most difficult, especially given my condition. I do not want to worry about reclaiming the throne just yet. It is better that I instill in the people that I am the true heir and that I am here to fight for them."

"That'll be new to them," Boyd grumbled.

Soren looked up.

"What he means," Mist interjected. "Is that Daein's citizens have been pushed around too much. If they know there is a leader who is willing to fight back bandits and their oppressors, they will be a lot more willing to help."

"It would be easier if you could hide that you were Branded though. Daein is known for it's prejudices, and no matter how nice you are, some of them won't be able to look past it," Titania said. "It might be a good idea to keep it hidden until you've taken the throne, or maybe never let it be known at all."

"I can't do that," Soren said. "I am not just motivated to take the throne for personal gain. I want to create a home that everyone can be equal in, Branded included." He glanced at Stefan. "And I want to be a major power in support of the creation of another country."

"Oh? You failed to mention that part," Ike said, crooking a blue eyebrow up.

"I...am a little embarrassed by it, to be honest. But Stefan has been trying to gather the Branded up, and hoped to create a country for them, most likely with the help of Crimea, or any country willing to support them. It is a dream that if I can help fulfill, I will," Soren said. "And as much as I hate Daein for the war and destruction they caused, it was not its people that caused it, but their Mad King. I want to do what I can to restore their faith."

"I'm not used to such selflessness from, Soren," Titania said, a small smirk on her lips. "It's quite refreshing."

Soren coughed, trying to fight the flush rising in his cheeks. "As I was saying, I need to gain their support. For this reason, I plan on going to each town, and routing the occupying forces out. Then, we shall teach them how to fight so that they can defend themselves when we leave. As you have pointed out, we do not have an army. We cannot leave forces behind to help protect them, so we will just do what we can do help. Then...when we reach the capitol...well, I haven't gotten that far yet."

"We can't take down an army," Ike repeated.

"I know that! I'll think of something. I just...need more time. I need more allies."

"What about Sothe?" Mist piped up.

"There's where we come to another lovely roadblock," Colm said. "Seems there's a Palleas guy who thinks he's the heir. Sothe doesn't think he is, and actually sides with Soren, but seeing as how the rest of his group believes in Palleas, he can't join us. We're on our own."

"What sort of mess have you gotten us into?" Rhys sighed.

"I'm sorry. You...you do not have to fight with me. I will not make you stay," Soren said.

Rhys smiled at him. "I did not mean that in a harmful way, Soren. I just don't know how someone like you could get in so much trouble so fast without us."

Soren flushed again. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Mist cut in. "We're sticking with you, so get over it. No matter what ends up happening with Palleas, we're on your side."

"Good to know. I truly appreciate it."

"If that's it, then I think we should all rest up," Ike said. "This may be the last time for awhile that we have a...nice place to sleep."

"Alright then, everyone out," Titania said.

"Oh, I get first dibs on a bed!" Mist said, racing out the door and into the surrounding hallways.

Soren stood as well, turning to leave only to be stopped by Ike's hand on his shoulder.

"I want to talk to you for a moment, Soren, if I may," he said.

Soren glanced at Stefan and nodded. Stefan shrugged and departed from the room, and within a few more moments, they were the only ones left. As Ike closed the door, Soren picked up his map and tucked it away once more.

"Soren, are you crazy?"

Soren swallowed and turned to face the fighter. "I don't think so."

"Can't you see he's manipulating you?" Ike demanded, gesturing at the door he had closed. "Stefan is just using you for his own gain. How do you really know you're Ashnard's son? Because he told you?"

"Ike, be quiet. Stefan didn't know either. In fact, when we were first attacked we thought it was because of Stefan's royal blood, diluted as it is," Soren snapped. "And how else would you explain the fact that I'm doing attacked at every turn?"

"Maybe they're after Stefan, like you said," Ike said.

"Don't be daft. No one knows of Stefan's royal blood except for me, and now you. Stefan is not manipulating me. I want to create a country where people are equal just as much as he does," Soren said.

"Oh do you? I thought you hated laguz."

"Maybe I did once. But I have met some amazing people. Lethe, Mordecai, Maurim, and now Xane. I cannot let my own prejudices blind me when I'm the dirtiest of them all," Soren growled. "Now stop lecturing me like you know what I'm feeling. I have changed Ike. I am not brimming with confidence about this. I may seem sure that I want to rule, but I promise you, I am not. I don't want to take the throne, but it is rather obvious that if I take the throne, the whole of Daein will be in a better position."

"You are absolutely mad. I didn't know you had such an ego on you," Ike said. "Maybe Ashnard's blood runs a little thicker than you thought."

"I...if anything, I've lost my ego," Soren said.. "Are we going to keep arguing about this or can we both just accept that I'm the better choice between the potential leaders and go to bed?"

Ike opened his mouth to say something else, but then shut it firmly. "Alright. Just try and think for yourself a little bit more."

Soren didn't say anything in response, instead watching the fighter turn around and walk out of the room. Once he was gone, he sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. After a few more moments though, he made his way back to the storage room, glad to see that Stefan had moved a small cot for them to share.

"There actually weren't any beds, only a few cots, so I made sure to grab one," Stefan said, moving towards him. "What's wrong?"

Soren stepped forward into Stefan's hug, wondering briefly how everything could go so wrong and so right all at once, and all so fast. "Just have a lot on my mind. Don't worry about it."

"Ah but you see, I must worry about because I care about you," Stefan said, pulling back so he could look Soren in the eye. "So, what's wrong?"

"...Everything. That's a very rough estimate," Soren murmured. "I just...this is why I left. Because I knew once they found out, they would react like this."

"In case you didn't notice, Shinon was the only one that overreacted," Stefan said..

"But I...agree with him. I'm disgusting. Not just because I'm Branded, but my father is...Ashnard, the man I worked to defeat. I killed my own father, and I'm glad he's dead, and I hate that his blood runs in my veins. I always hated what I was, but now..."

"You are not disgusting, and you are nothing like Ashnard. I don't give a  _damn_  what blood runs in your veins, Soren, and those who matter won't care either," Stefan said, reaching forward to run his knuckles against the mage's cheek.

Soren leant into the touch, eyes downcast. "I hate this. I hate  _me._ "

"Why would you say something like that? What's there to dislike about you?" Stefan whispered.

"I'm Branded, egotistical, cold, selfish...just...everything."

"Where is all of this coming from? You aren't selfish, egotistical, or cold. Maybe a little stupid for thinking those things, but there's nothing wrong with you," Stefan said.

"I think my confidence is wavering," Soren admitted. "I'm feeling weak, and I don't like it."

Stefan leaned forward and kissed him. "Stop those thoughts. You are one of the most amazing people I know, Soren."

The swordmaster took his hand and tugged him over to the cot and Soren let himself be pulled down onto it, stretching out beside Stefan as he rested his head on the man's chest. Once again, the swordmaster ran his fingers through the mage's hair, tugging out the leather band so his hair could move free.

"Don't listen to what Ike or Shinon say. Ike is just feeling bitter that you left and Shinon is...Shinon."

Soren snorted. "You might be right. Ike tried to convince me that you were manipulating me."

"I hope you don't believe him," Stefan said, propping himself up so the candlelight illuminated his face. "I would never do anything like that to you. I care too much to ever hurt you."

Soren felt his chest constrict and he pulled Stefan down for a kiss, deepening it almost instantly so he could taste the man on his tongue. Stefan gave a soft groan and rolled on top of him, letting their tongues dance together slowly as he combed his broad hands through the mage's hair.

"The things you do to me," Stefan murmured, pulling away to look into Soren's dazed eyes. "I don't know what I would do if I ever lost you."

Soren swallowed thickly, feeling his eyes burn at the words. To think he could ever mean this much to anyone when all his life people had only cast him aside. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Stefan brushed their noses together. "I could say the same."

Their lips came together once more, and Soren tugged the larger man's full weight down on him, gasping into his mouth as Stefan yanked on his hair. Stefan pulled his head back, pressing his lips into his jaw, then his neck. Soren gave a whispered moan, fingers digging into the swordmaster's outer shirt, tugging and pulling on it as he tried to melt into the other.

"Shh, shh," Stefan murmured as Soren began to whimper. "You're okay. It's okay."

Soren didn't protest as Stefan rolled them over so that he was curled up on the man's larger form, instead holding himself close as a few small tears leaked out of his eyes.

"Come on now," Stefan said, wiping at his tears. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Soren said quietly as his breathing evened out. "I'm just...not used to caring for someone this much, or having the feeling returned. It...scares me."

Stefan ran his hand soothingly down Soren's spine, placing a few soft kisses along his brand mark. "It's okay. I understand." The swordmaster leaned over to blow out the candle that was lighting up the room, then drew Soren impossibly closer. "Go to sleep. I've got you now."

 

-.-

 

"Colm went scouting ahead earlier this morning," Xane said as Soren sat down beside him at the table. "He should be back soon."

"Good. The next town is only a few hours away if we move fast," Soren said, examining his map. "We should probably pick up some horses to increase our speed if we can."

"With what money?" Xane asked.

Soren winced. "You're right. I can't believe I didn't-"

"Got the answer to your problems," a new voice said from behind them.

Soren raised his eyebrows as he turned around, crossing his arms over his chest when he came face to face with Boyd. "Oh? And just what is this answer of yours?"

The green haired fighter grabbed a barrel and dragged it over so he could take a seat. "Well, as a mercenary group, we do have money. Buying a few horses wouldn't cost much, and we have enough to pay for food. And we can carry supplies on the caravan."

"We have a caravan?" Soren asked, frowning in surprise. "Where?"

"Back in the village. Ike and I were talking about possibly having them trail behind about half a days ride. That way we won't be slowed down by them, and they won't be in danger because of you," Boyd said.

Soren nodded. "That's probably the best plan. I am glad that I ran into you."

Boyd smiled. "Yeah, yeah. Ignore what Shinon says. You're part of the group Soren, and if you left because you have a stupid mark on your head...then you're dumb."

"I...thank you, Boyd," Soren said.

"Don't worry about it. Rather have you in control of Daein than these other guys any day," Boyd said. "I expect Ike will be in to talk to you soon, and then we can move out."

"Good. Thank you," Soren said.

Boyd flashed him one more smile before exiting the room. Soren sighed and rubbed his eyes, earning himself a quizzical look from his pink-haired companion.

"Are you alright, Soren? You look a little tired," Xane said.

"Just been a little stressful," Soren said. "I'm sorry I have neglected your studies. You did amazing the other night. You must've been practicing on your own."

Xane beamed. "Yeah, a little. I'm just glad I could help."

"I'll have to train you more though. I can't have you being a liability on the field," Soren said, his tone light.

"Maybe I can talk to someone about learning how to fight with a weapon," Xane said.

"You would do that? I thought laguz hated using beorc weapons," Soren said.

"You think I care about stuff like that, especially now?" Xane smiled. "I'll do what I can to be helpful."

The door opened and Ike entered, readjusting the strap of his sword. "Can we talk for a bit before we move out? There's some details I want to go over."

Soren nodded, giving a Xane a quick glance. Xane nodded and left the room quickly, shutting the door behind him.

"We need to talk. About a lot of things," Ike said.

The mage looked away, not sure if he wanted to get into any conversation of that sort. He jumped when Ike's hand slid beneath his chin and forced him to look up and meet his eyes. "I still love you Soren. I don't want us to fight anymore. It just feels wrong."

Soren pulled away. "Ike...I don't want to fight either. But I can't...be with you. I love you too, you mean more to me than you could possibly imagine, but I..."

"It's Stefan, isn't it? He's changed you, or maybe just given you a place where you won't be judged."

"Ike, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just...allow me one more kiss?"

Soren glanced towards the door, biting his lip, and then nodded. Ike leaned in, letting their noses knock together, then their lips, just barely. The once more, a little harder. Soren sighed, pulling away so he could bury his face in the fighter's neck as he wrapped his arms tight around the broad shouldered man. Ike's arms wrapped around his waist in response, and Soren couldn't help the few tears that threatened to faall.

"Goddess, I've missed you Ike," Soren mumbled.

"Don't ever leave me like that again," Ike said. "And maybe I'll forgive you."

Soren pulled away and hastily wiped his eyes. "I won't. I'll give you a proper goodbye next time, and actually write, and stay in contact, and-"

Ike laughed and shook his head. "I get it Soren. It's alright. Let's just get this job done, okay?"

The mage nodded, feeling monumentally better now that things had been more or less patched over. "What's this about a caravan?"

"Aimee and the others have a small wagon we've been using to store some excess supplies. I was going to send Mist back to talk to them, tell them to wait a half day or so before they come after us," Ike said.

"That should work. I can't see why they would attract a lot of attention from Kaligua's army. He only wants me after all," Soren said. "I appreciate your help."

"Stop saying that. We're doing it because we want to," Ike told him. "Now go get your things together. We need to move out before that army of yours catches up."

The door crashed open then, and Colm raced between the fighter and the mage to throw the deadbolt down over the steel door. "We need to go now. I'd give us ten minutes before the army's scouters find the door."

"Dammit," Soren hissed. "Colm, can you circle back to the town and tell Ike's caravan to follow after us by about half a days ride?"

Colm glanced over at him, gaze fiery. "Sure, why not? It's not like I have anything better to do."

"I-"

"Leave it Soren. Just a bit frazzled. Be back before you know it," Colm said. He gave a strained smile and raced back out the other door and down the hallway.

A moment later, the fighter and the mage followed after him.

 

-.-

 

In the end, the group ended up bypassing the town in favor of gaining more ground from the pursuing army. It was a hard choice, but Soren knew they couldn't spare the time.

"You know, the good news that it's an army pursing us and not a trained assassin, is that we can outrun them," Stefan said. "Soren, you look a little winded."

Soren swallowed thickly, ducking under a tree branch. "I'll be alright. I just haven't regained my strength from the other day."

Rhys glanced back, a frown on his face. "Soren, I think you should ride with Oscar the remainder of the way. I want to take a look at you when we have a moment."

Soren stared at the healer but the nodded, knowing it was useless to argue with the man. While Rhys was shy, he could be rather stubborn when it came to the care of his companions. So, Oscar circled back and helped Soren into the saddle. It wasn't long after that, when Soren found himself drooping forward and falling asleep to the steady rhythm of the horse's feet.

When he awoke, he was lying on a lumpy mattress with Rhys leaning over him with a concerned expression.

"Don't try to sit up," Rhys said. "We're in an inn, and Ike guesses it will take the army at least another day to reach us. Now, tell me Soren, do you know how a mage's magic power works?"

"Of course I do! I've only been training my whole life," Soren said.

"So you know that your life is connected directly to how much magic power you have within you. Now, tell me exactly what major workings you have done since you left us."

It took awhile for him to describe in detail what exactly he had done, but when he finished with his explanation, he saw that Rhys looked considerably more pale, which did not bode well for him.

"Soren, you are completely and utterly daft. Do you  _know_ what you're doing to your body? You've been working magics no one should be able to do by themselves, let alone even attempt. I get that you have an extended life span, which probably explains why you were able to do it in the first place, but if you keep taking chances like this, you are going to die before the year is out!" Rhys all but shouted.

"I had to. I couldn't just let everyone die," Soren snapped back. "I'm taking care of my body. A few more days without using magic and I'll be fine."

"No, you will not be fine. And to prove my point, try and access your powers right now. Just a little breeze will do," Rhys ordered.

Rolling his eyes, Soren did as ordered, only to have his vision spin and his lungs almost give out. Wheezing, he accepted the glass of water Rhys held to his lips and drank it down. "I didn't think it was this bad."

"Of course you didn't. Now, I'm sure you realize your position. You are out of power, and to work magic now, you will be using your life, the very essence of your soul."

"So what to we do?"

"I will transfer a small amount of my power to you so you can walk properly. Then...we will need to find a mage willing to lend you more power so you can actually fight, and eventually, your body can begin to replenish its own magic power, but it will be a very slow process," Rhys said. "Now, get some rest. I'll do the transfer in the morning."

"Thank you, Rhys. I...thank you."

Rhys smiled warmly at him as he stood. "Only doing my job. Sleep well Soren."

Almost as soon as the healer left, the door opened once more and Stefan stepped through, several vials of liquid in his hands. He set them down on the lopsided dresser and then sat at the edge of the mattress, a somewhat dangerous look in his eye.

"Did you know you were practically killing yourself?" he asked quietly.

"I...didn't know it had gotten this bad. I thought I was going to be fine," Soren said. "I can't hold us up though, so Rhys and I are going to do some temporary fixes."

"I don't give a damn about temporary. You need to take care of yourself," Stefan said. "Let us take care of somethings. I promise we won't screw it up. Anyways. I'm going to give you a little something to help you relax a little. So strip and roll over."

Soren crooked an eyebrow. "Demanding."

"It's for your own health," Stefan said with a smug smirk.

The swordmaster reached forward to help the mage out of his complicated robes, keeping his touches surprisingly tame before helping him roll onto his stomach. Soren closed his eyes, trying to relax as Stefan fiddled around with the random vials on the dresser, and a moment later, the man was rolling his hands into Soren's bare back. The mage groaned, muffling the noise with his arm as he did so. The man's touch was perfect, just the right amount of pressure to work out the knots that had begun to take over his muscles. Stefan worked slow, working over every area meticulously as he made his way down to Soren's lower back.

"How did you get so good at this?" Soren murmured.

"I've had time," Stefan said, sliding down to start in on the mage's pale thighs.

Soren jerked in surprise, but Stefan didn't stop, only lightening his touch so it wasn't quite as rough. The swordmaster took his time moving down, but after a very thorough foot massage, he tapped the mage's thigh as a signal for him to turn over.

"Um...I don't want to," Soren mumbled, flushing a little as he met Stefan's gaze out of the corner of his eye.

Stefan stuck his tongue out at him, and then flipped him over, laughing at Soren's squeaked protest. He paid no mind to the mage's very obvious arousal, instead straddling his thighs and reaching up to begin his light touch at Soren's temples. Soren bit his lip and forced himself to relax, telling himself it wasn't like Stefan hadn't already seen everything, and eventually he found himself growing sleepy from the man's gentle touch.

Until a broad hand wrapped around his arousal.

Soren's eyes flew open and Stefan chuckled, pressing their lips together. "You know, I really wasn't planning on doing this, but it might help you relax a little."

The mage's head hit the pillow as Stefan ducked down, nipping at his collarbone before sinking lower and running his tongue over his nipple. Soren slid a hand up to fist in the man's green hair, biting his lip hard to keep the noise down. Stefan kept his touch as slow as the massage, working over Soren's body in just the right way. It didn't take long for the mage to cum, whispering Stefan's name into his ear as he did so, hips jerking.

Stefan slid off of him then, cleaning him up and helping him back into his lighter clothes for sleep. Soren sighed contentedly when his lover joined him, his body warm and relaxed in a way that he had never felt before.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"Anytime. Especially if you promise to not push yourself so hard," Stefan said.

Soren felt a pout on his lips as he looked up at the swordmaster. "That's not fair."

"Oh I think it's quite fair. I appreciate how much work you do for this, but you need to relax. I understand it's difficult to relax when we're on a warpath but...I think you can manage."

"With your help maybe," Soren said.

Stefan crooked an eyebrow. "Oh? Where did this confidence come from?"

Soren flushed, biting his lip. "I um..."

His uncertainty prompted another soft laugh and a quick kiss. "Go to sleep Soren. I'll be here when you wake."

 

-.-

 

"You look quite a bit better this morning," Ike said as Soren helped adjust the saddlebags on Oscar's horse. "Did Rhys give you a good lecture?"

"And a bit of his magic to keep me awake," Soren said. "And before you say anything more, I'll be taking care of myself more."

"Good. Now we need to make some ground. We have a big city not too far from here, and if we're lucky, you can get your message across and we can move on before the army gets wind of it," Ike said.

"Sounds good. I'm a little worried about their reaction," Soren admitted.

"No one can predict how they will react. Don't worry too much though."

Ike knelt down to boost Soren into the saddle, giving him a quick smile as Oscar swung up behind him. Soren looked down at the blue haired fighter, struck by how in a way, they had reversed their positions. Now Ike was the one watching his back and keeping the path clear, and he was the general, the leader. And then he realized how he wished they could go back to the way things were.

"You feeling better?" Stefan asked, moving up beside Ike.

"Yes, I'll be alright for now," Soren assured him.

 

-.-

 

Zihark rose to his feet as Jill opened the door to his room. "What news do you have?"

"It's as Sothe said. Soren is a few hours ride from here. Shall we join them?"

The swordmaster cracked his neck as he paced the room. "I'm not sure. Palleas seemed...so right. I thought perhaps we had a chance at taking Daein back but...with Soren. It just makes sense. Palleas doesn't look like Ashnard of Almedha, let alone the other concubines, and Soren does. I want the right leader on the throne."

"As do I," the red head said with a firm nod.

"So, do we place out bets on Soren...or Palleas?"

Jill smiled. "Soren has Ike with him now. I don't know how Sothe failed to mention that but...anyways. There's some bad news."

Zihark sighed. "What now?"

"Soren's got an army trailing behind him. It makes it more believable that Soren is a true heir but I don't know if they can stand up to that sort of power. And once the Begnion's troops get wind of it..."

Zihark's expression turned sour. "We have a very bloody revolution on our hands, Jill."

"Ha. I expected no less. I knew giving Daein back to its people was going to be hard. I'd been waiting for things to heat up a little."

"Alright then. Let's go give Soren something to be happy about."

"You know, we should send something to Haar. Rally some people together. If we're going to get serious about this, we're going to need some back up, and Haar is close enough to the boarder that he should be able to get a message to some allies," Zihark said.

"Oh. I know what you're thinking now," Jill said as she followed Zihark out the door and down the stairs to the bar area of the inn. "You're thinking...laguz." The last part was hushed so the bar maid wouldn't overhear them.

"Yeah. I'm sure they wouldn't mind helping," Zihark said.

"I'll send my wyvern out. He should be back before we have to do any major fighting, don't you think?"

Zihark readjusted his sword as they walked out into the sunlight, glancing up and down the streets. Begnion soldiers patrolled the corners, their gazes harsh and demanding. "Can you fight well on foot?"

Jill winced. "Perhaps I'll wait."

"Yeah. I would say so."

 

-.-

 

"Soren, bad news. We've got Begnion soldiers occupying that entire city," Colm said.

"That isn't good," Ike said. "We'll be trapped if we delay here, with Begnion before us, and Daein at our backs."

"No, we can do this," Soren said firmly. "Sothe mentioned that the Begnion troops aren't wanted here, right? And that they're cruel and the townsfolk hate them?"

"I don't know how I feel about taking on Begnion troops. They were our allies," Oscar said.

"In case you didn't notice, we're mercenaries. We work for whoever we want," Boyd said. "So let's get rid of them. That will really get Soren's message across."

"Rhys, can I do any fighting?" Soren asked.

"No. Absolutely not," Rhys said. "I don't want you so much as moving a finger."

"Alright then. How shall we do this? I need to be able to get my message out there," Soren said.

"I can fight on foot," Mist said, dismounting. "And Sky can protect you just fine on his own, as long as you can stay in the saddle."

Soren paled but didn't protest, quickly changing mounts as Mist strapped her sword to her back. "How are we going to do this then? We can't just charge in and wipe them out."

"Yeah we can," Ike said. "In fact, that's the best way to do it."

"Yeah, and make sure you shout lots of stuff about how they've occupied us long enough," Boyd added.

"Calm down, air head. We can't just go saying things like that. We aren't Daein citizens, and we're well known as the Greil Mercenaries," Shinon said, a sneer in his voice.

"Okay. Better plan. We need to wipe most of the Begnion soldiers out. I want their leader captured alive, then I want you to gather everyone to the center of the town. There, I will speak to them," Soren said. "Let's make this quick and easy."

Soren sent the horse to the front of the line, with Oscar on his left, and Stefan on his right. They emerged from the forest and slipped onto the path leading to the gates of the city. At the front stood four Begnion soldiers, weapons held at the ready as they approached.

"And who might you be?" one of them asked, hand on the handle to draw the gate down.

"He's the rightful King of Daein." Soren looked up, surprised. There, at the top of the gate, crouched Zihark, silver hair blowing across his face. "Now. Open the gate."

"Wha-"

"I believe he said, open the gate," a new voice said.

Before anyone could react, a wyvern swooped down, knocking two of the soldiers to the ground as Jill ran her spear through another, knocking him into a tree. Her wyvern stomped over to the remaining soldier, looming over him.

"Right away ma'am!"

The soldier scurried to get the gate down, watching them enter in stunned silence. Zihark jumped and landed beside Soren, a smirk on his face when he looked over at him.

"Let's get rid of these Begnion soldiers. Then we can talk."

"Um, certainly."

Zihark raced forward, brandishing his sword with a cry. Stefan gave a small wave and dashed after him, plunging straight into battle as the Begnion troops rallied themselves together at the intrusion.

"Here. You might need this," Colm said as he ran past.

Soren accepted the knife that was shoved into his hand, and moments later, Sky charged forward with a loud neigh. He held tight to the reins as the horse galloped forward, running down one knight and then delivering a sharp kick backwards to crush the skull of another attacker. Having never been on a fighting horse, Soren could only clutch the reins and pray a stray arrow didn't find his back as it twisted this way and that, dealing crushing blows with its hooves and teeth.

"Soren, duck!"

Soren obeyed without question as an arrow whizzed over his head, feathering an oncoming attacker right in the slit of his helm. Sky followed after Mist, moving closer and closer to the center of the town. Soren managed to sit up during a brief moment of respite, surprised to see that the townsfolk had emerged from their homes brandishing whatever they had on hand, and were actually beating down the Begnion soldiers alongside the mercenaries.

He didn't have much longer to think though, for Sky plunged forward, galloping straight for the town square. The mage had only a moment's notice as the horse gathered it's hunches beneath it before it leapt straight into the air, soaring over several soldiers to land on the scaffolding of a stage the town must have used to give important announcements. Only seconds later, the town was gathered in the center, the remaining soldiers beaten and tied up by bits of rope and cloth. It was then that Soren realized he was no good at giving speeches.

"You have been liberated," he began, his eyes seeking Stefan in the crowd. Once he met the man's eyes, he found the strength to speak louder. "I am your new King, uncrowned that I am. I have come to take Daein back, for Daein's people. Begnion troops have no place here, and a false king with no royal blood, and no care for his citizens, does not deserve the throne he sits in. Even now, he hunts me down, knowing that I wish to take Daein back into its rightful hands. I swear to you, I will fight to restore Daein to its former glory. I will not let Begnion troops occupy us, and I will not let Daein fall to corrupt leaders. Spread the word. The new King is here, and he will take back what belongs to the Daein people."

Soren was surprised by the reaction his words had, and he was in equal awe of the happiness and hope he saw in the people's eyes as they stared at him. If they knew he was Branded, perhaps the reaction would be different. But right now, he represented hope to these people. They didn't even know him, and yet since he had freed them from their chains, they were more than willing to follow him.

"Now...I have some news that may displease you. I request that the captain here is brought to me, alive. I also request the presence of any mage willing to do me a favor. I know these are odd requests, but I hope that you can fulfill them for me."

"You can stay at my inn! I'll cook up a mighty fine meal for you!" a women at the front of the group said, waving her arm up at him.

Soren tried to fight the flush that rose to his face. "Thank you. You will have to guide me there. I will speak with you all once more before I leave, and if you have any questions, please, come and speak with me. I understand the things I have said here will be difficult to accept, but I want you to know I am willing to listen to your concerns. I want what is best for everyone. Thank you."

The mage didn't know how to make Sky descend, but luckily the horse made that choice for him, making its way over to the stairs and gingerly walking down them, defying everything Soren had ever known about horses. The crowd parted before him, and the woman from before eagerly went to his side, leading the way towards a large inn at the north end of town.

 

-.-

 

The woman's name turned out to be Mela, and she escorted Soren, Stefan, and Ike to a back room to eat and meet with the mages that had answered Soren's request. Gatrie, Zihark, and Jill had gone out into the town to rally up those willing to defend themselves against bandits and act as the town's standing army so that they could teach them some basic techniques and tactics to help. It wouldn't be much, but Soren hoped it would be enough to empower them, and restore their faith.

"So. I will be very honest with you," Soren said, looking at the mages that stood before him. "I have used up a fair amount of my magic power to get here. I cannot fight with magic. I was hoping that perhaps...one or two of you, would be willing to transfer some of your energy to me so that I could be of more use in the future. I understand that is a difficult thing to ask, and I do not ask it lightly. If I had a better option, I would take it, but-"

"With all due respect, sir, we are more than willing to help," one of the mages spoke up. He was a younger man, brown hair, brown eyes, very plain, though his eyes shown bright with eagerness. "You've done a lot to help us already. There were so few of you, and so many Begnion troops, and yet you freed us. We will do whatever we can to help."

The other mages nodded in agreement, and once more Soren felt himself flushing in embarrassment. "I do not want you to give so much that you endanger your lives. Just a little would be helpful. I...can't express how much this means to me. That you would be willing to help me is...thank you."

The man from before stepped up, taking Soren's hands in his. "You've given us our hope back. We should be thanking you."

Soren closed his eyes as the man's power flowed into him, just a small trickle, well managed. The man had potential. One by one, the remaining mages stepped up, loaning Soren just a tiny amount of their power, but by the time he had taken from each of the nine mages, his head already felt clearer.

"Now, there are somethings I should tell you. I do not have the resources to leave behind troops to protect you. I just can't do it, but I don't want you to be left defenseless. Some of my friends are doing what they can to get you a working force of fighters, but there's only so much that can do against a regiment of Begnion soldiers. I want to be very clear when I say that if Begnion troops come back to reoccupy, accept it. It will be hard to do, but just remember that I will remove them once and for all. I do not want any of you getting hurt because you stood up to an enemy you could not beat. Do you understand me?" Soren asked.

"We understand. We will not fail you King..."

"Soren. My name is Soren," the mage said. "And you are?"

"Caden. I kind of act as...town leader I guess. We haven't had a mayor since Begnion's been occupying, but I do what I can to organize events to help those running low on food or shelter," he said.

Soren smiled. "Keep doing that. I'm sure it helps keep everyone's spirits up."

"Thank you. I...you don't know what you've done for us, your Highness-"

"Please, just Soren," Soren said. "That title makes me feel weird."

Caden chuckled. "Soren. I hope you can stay longer."

"I can't. Kaligua's army is on my trail, and I can't be caught until I'm facing Kaligua himself," Soren said. "Be sure to let them know where I'm going. Straight to the capitol."

"You are a brave man, Soren. We wish you well."

A few hours later, Soren was able to make his way back to the center of town and repeat the words he had said to Caden, making sure to stress the issue of their own lives to them. He did not want them to grow so confident that they ended up dead. Not long after that, they were back on the path, and he was almost sad to go. He didn't think he would be able to feel a kinship with a country he had spent so long hating, and yet seeing the people who had been beaten down rise up when they had the chance, and speaking with them after...he felt that perhaps he could start to feel as though Daein was his homeland.

 

-.-

 

Soren sat against the tree trunk, eyes turned to the star speckled sky. Shinon was out somewhere keeping watch for the next few hours while they camped out in the forest, but he couldn't bring himself to sleep quite yet, his mind too restless. The bushes rustled, and Xane crawled out to sit next to him, nestling into his side.

"You were amazing today," Xane said.

Soren gave a small smile. "I'm glad. I wasn't feeling so confident myself."

"It's kinda weird to hear you saying stuff like that. It sounds like you've been living in Daein your whole life, and knowing that you haven't makes it feel odd," Xane admitted.

Soren swallowed thickly. "I'm a little worried." He glanced at Xane, biting his lip. "What if I lose myself?"

Xane rested his head on the mage's shoulder, remaining silent as he thought. "You won't lose yourself. It takes a lot for something like that to happen. Your opinions are strong. You won't lose sight of what's important."

"Did you lose yourself, Xane?"

"When my spirit fled? I don't know. I must've, though I certainly wasn't aware." Xane shifted closer, and Soren opened his arm to allow the small laguz closer. "It hurt. But I didn't know my spirit was...leaving. It didn't feel like that."

"Why? What would cause the laguz in you to flee like that?"

Xane didn't answer, instead hiding his face in Soren's neck. Soren held him close, surprised that Xane had told him so much already, and not quite sure how to react to how the laguz was now clamming up. Before long, the small laguz had fallen asleep, leaving Soren once again alone to his thoughts.

 

-.-

 

"Hey, Soren," Zihark said, hailing down the mage as he climbed up on Oscar's horse.

"Oh hello. I forgot to speak with you yesterday. I'm sorry," Soren said.

The fighter waved a hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it. Jill is in touch with Haar still, and he's further near the boarder of Daein delivering a package. If you want, we can send him to Gallia for reinforcements."

Soren bit his lip. "I'm not sure they would help me if they knew the situation fully. I am Branded after all..."

"Don't worry about it. Maurim won't care, I know that much. Don't you think it's worth a shot?"

"How soon can the reinforcements be here?" Soren asked.

"Well, Haar is a little less than a day away, by wyvern. Then Gallia is another day or so, and then they will have to contact Kilvas and Phoenicis. So about four days, more likely five," Zihark said.

"I guess you're right. It is worth a shot. Send the message," Soren said. "How effective is Jill on foot?"

"Not very good." The voice belonged to Jill as she trotted up behind Zihark. "I can fight, but it's probably better if I get the message to Haar verbally. We don't want to chance any letters falling into the wrong hands."

"If you're sure," Soren said, swinging up into the saddle. He was getting better at it, finally.

"I'll see you in a few days," Jill said, giving him a quick salute and striding away.

"Tell me, Soren. How much do you know of your heritage?"

"Only that my mother was a dragon laguz concubine to Ashnard," Soren said honestly.

"I did some research, and there was only one of those. Her name was Almedha, and she was Kurthnaga's sister. This could be of use later on. I know Goldoa is not one to get involved with wars but if one of their own is in trouble-"

"One of their own? I'm a bastard child who's Branded. I am not one of their own," Soren scoffed.

"It might be worth a shot."

"No. I won't chance that. It would be an insult to them," Soren said. "And Colm didn't say anything about her being Goldoan royalty. I am not doubting you I just...find it odd he would not mention such a thing."

Zihark shrugged. "I don't know. I...believe you to be the correct heir. I will fight for you, as will Jill."

"Thank you, Zihark. It means more to me than you know."


	11. Chapter 11

_Dear Journal,_

_Day 43. Not only has Ike joined our group, but Zihark and Jill as well. Jill is still in touch with Haar, so she's sending to Gallia and the other laguz nations for reinforcements, if they are willing. The help would be appreciated. I don't know what help we can be to the towns we stop in when our forces are so small. I can't help but think it was sheer luck that helped us win that city yesterday. It couldn't be anything but luck, really.  
_

"Soren, bad news," Colm said.

They had been traveling for several hours without any issues, and Soren was hoping they would make it to the next village without any problems, but it seemed he was not to be that lucky.

"What is it?"

"The army is catching up. I'd give it an hour before they're upon us," Colm told him.

"What? That's not possible!"

"We did have a longer delay than we hoped last night," Oscar pointed out from behind him.

"It appears they have mages working for them as well, to help them go faster without their horses tiring," Colm added. "So we either fight or...die, at this point."

Soren called for a halt, mind racing as he looked over the few troops he had. They were strong, but could they take on an army? And could he help? Too many questions, not enough answers.

"Be ready for a fight. Ike, Stefan, Rhys, and Titania, I will need to speak with you about a battle plan," Soren said, dismounting from Oscar's horse.

The remaining mercenaries dispersed, checking over their weapons as Soren led them away towards the edge of the forest they had been about to enter. He sat down, surrounded by the others, and opened the map.

"Daein's army is fast approaching. We need a plan," Soren said. "There's a bridge up ahead that we could use for an ambush."

"Ah, like Petrine did," Ike said. "Could we dig holes that fast? And how would we make sure they stumbled onto them?"

"Rhys, can I use magic yet?" Soren asked.

Rhys reached across and touched his hand, closing his eyes as he measured the mage's magic levels. "Yes. I'd be very careful about it though, and you might want to pull a little energy from myself and that laguz boy, Xane was it?"

"Okay. I can cover the entire bridge with leaves, and use wind magic to keep the holes empty," Soren said. "They'll be on their guard, with leaves everywhere, but if we cover everything, they'll have no way of knowing where the holes are. I want Colm, Rolf, Boyd, and Mist waiting in the forest behind the bridge. They need to let the army past, and one they're through, they can attack the rear. The rest of us will remain at the front. Try and capture the general alive if you can. If he can't be subdued...we'll deal with it then."

"Sounds like the best plan," Ike said. "There's not much we can do with our numbers so few."

"If we need to, we will retreat," Soren said. "I don't know where to. We obviously can't outrun them."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Titania said. "For now, I will join the rear guard. Even if they don't expect an attack at the rear, I should be able to offer some support."

Soren nodded. "Alright, let's get to work."

Between Xane and Soren, they were able to dig several trenches in the bridge, almost all the way across, only sparing small spaces large enough for a single horse rider to get through. The mage drew out a small sketch of the bridge and gave it to Titania to memorize so she would not accidentally stumble in the trenches if they had to come across the bridge. In the end, they left the trenches uncovered. Even if the army could see the trenches, there was not much they could do.

Soren leaned against a tree as the group formed up, ready to take on the Daein army as best they could. His vision was beginning to spin already.

"Soren, take more magic," Xane said. "It's not like I can really use it, and I have a much larger store than Rhys does. It won't hurt me for you to take more."

"Xane I-"

The sound of approaching horses along the other side of the gorge stopped Soren's words. The stampede of horses came into few, followed by foot soldiers. The army had run along the forest, instead of going through it, and as they kept pouring in, gathering behind the treacherous bridge, Soren felt his heart raise to his throat. They didn't stand a chance against such forces.

"No use running," a man called, ripping his helm off to reveal a wild mass of red hair. "I am General Angyd, here on orders of the King to put down the rebels. Now, if you'd just hand over your general, I will spare the rest of your lives."

Soren stepped forward. "I believe I am King, and I do not recall ever giving you such orders."

The man grinned, golden eyes sparkling. "You may think you're the King, brat, but Kaligua runs Daein now. Once you're gone, there will be no more challengers. So, if you want me to spare your friends, you should-"

"I don't feel like dying today."

"Remember that when your friends are lying dead at your feet!"

Soren took another step forward, Xane beside him. The trenches were hidden by a barely held together illusion, and once they dropped that, their enemy would fall right through. With a cry, the horses moved forward, charging across the bridge. Soren and Xane released the illusion as the first horses stumbled, tripped, and fell, bucking their riders free, or just downright crushing them. Stefan raced passed then, followed by Oscar, Zihark, Gatrie, and Shinon. The forces hit with a clash of steel, and Soren was awed by how the Daein army came to an almost direct halt.

He didn't delay for long though, whipping up a fierce wind and sending it forward. The wind was strong enough to send some of the foot soldiers flying, and he followed up with several bolts of lightning, ignoring the pain in his chest as he did so. The mercenaries were already falling back, despite their initial strength, and the remainder of their forces hiding in the forest had already broken in, splitting the Daein army in half.

Slowly though, they began to lose ground, falling back as the army continued to push, Angyd at the head. Soren sprang back as an arrow cut through the air, sending back a blast of air as rebuttal. As he did so, he noticed Angyd charging through, eyes lighting on Stefan's turned back. The general raised his axe, and with a shout Soren let loose jet of air from his finger tips. The wind cut across the land between them, hitting the man so hard it knocked him free of his horse, and he disappeared among the thrashing of horses.

Soren's heart gave a powerful thud, and he collapsed, vision spinning.

"Soren! Soren! Get up!"

Hands seized his clammy ones, and a rush of power slipped through his veins, jump starting his heart all at once. Xane jerked him to his feet, his own face pale.

"Soren! Looks like you could use some help!"

Soren glanced behind him, surprised to see Sothe and the rest of his crew emerging out of the forest behind them. "I..."

"Don't say another word," Sothe said. "I'll explain later."

He motioned with his hand, and the group plunged into the fray. It wasn't long after that, that the remaining Daein army began to flee, leaving a stranded Angyd moaning in the middle of the bridge, one of his legs broken.

"Should I heal him?" Rhys asked. "I don't know if he can talk beyond the pain."

"A little pain will be good for him," Soren said. "I want information after all. Someone drag him out of there."

In the end, Gatrie and Boyd dragged the screaming man out from beneath several dead soldiers, dropping him before Soren's feet. The wild light in his eyes was still there as he stared at Soren.

"So then. Care to tell us why you've been hunting me down?" Soren asked, glancing around to make sure Sothe and the rest of his group was listening very carefully.

"Why do you think, little King? He knows you're the real one, after all, we have Almedha," Angyd growled.

"Impossible," Colm said, voice soft. "She's dead."

"Did you see her die?" Angyd laughed. "The bitch is in the castle dungeons, rotting. She knows he's alive, started screaming that the real heir was going to take the throne back. Pah. As if the Begnion troops would ever allow that."

"What are you talking about?" Micaiah asked. "Palleas is the heir!"

"Palleas? Don't be ridiculous. He's nothing but a toy." Angyd coughed, blood splattering the ground. "So little King. Go ahead and run. Kaligua will destroy you soon enough."

"Hm. Now that you're out of the way, I won't have much to worry about," Soren said. "Let's go. He can stay here."

 

-.-

 

Sothe convinced Micaiah to follow them to the next village, which was really not much more than a few houses and a small inn. Soren and the rest bought rooms for the night, but seeing as how Sothe didn't do the same, the mage knew that their alliance was short lived. Which was why he was sitting in his room with Stefan, Sothe, and Micaiah to at least attempt talking things out.

"I can't believe you're the right heir to the throne," the female mage said. "It's impossible. Palleas was born here, and he cares about Daein. You don't understand Daein's people."

"But I'm learning," Soren said. "I want your help. I don't want to have to fight with you over this. Tell me, Micaiah, has either army been following after Palleas?"

The silver haired girl paused, frowning as she looked down at her hands. "No but I...I thought that was because we were doing a good job. It is because we're doing a good job!"

"Micaiah...listen to him. He has a good argument. And he cares about the Daein people," Sothe said quietly.

"No. I refuse. Sothe...we're going back to Palleas. Whatever he says, he killed soldiers of Daein, and he fought a war against us. He has no right to the throne now," Micaiah said, getting to her feet.

Soren sighed. "I understand your feelings. I wish you luck, Micaiah, Sothe. Please...don't hold it against me."

"We won't," Sothe said.

And just like that, their temporary allies were gone but that was not the end of the anger.

"Dammit Soren. Dammit. Do you want to die?" Stefan demanded, his voice low as he turned his gaze on the mage. He stood up and turned away from him, as if he couldn't hold in his anger if he looked at him for much longer.

"Stefan, I-" Soren stood, only to have both of his shoulders seized in Stefan's grip.

"I saw what happened to you out there. You almost died. If Xane hadn't been there...you would be dead right now. I can't lose you Soren, do you understand that? You can't leave me alone in this world," Stefan whispered.

"I had to do something," Soren said. "He was going to kill you and I-"

"You can't fight anymore. You need to rest," Stefan said. "I'm not going to lose you-"

"And I'm not going to lose you either!" Soren protested. "It can't just work one way."

Stefan sighed, releasing the mage's shoulders. "Let's not talk about this anymore."

"Stefan, we need to...are we really arguing about how much we care about each other?" Soren asked. "How...odd."

The swordmaster shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Just...promise not to do anything stupid like that ever again. Can you do that for me? Please, Soren."

"I promise. I...Stefan...I..."

Stefan moved forward, brushing their noses together. "If you can't say it now, don't. I understand."

"But I do feel that way," Soren said. "I really do. It's just..."

"Shh. It's okay," Stefan said. "We should get some rest."

Soren stepped up onto his tip toes and kissed the tip of the swordmaster's nose. "Yeah alright."

 

-.-

 

Soren woke with a start as he was tossed onto the floor. Moments later, the tip of a sword, its metal glinting in the moonlight, was pressed to his throat.

"Oh, Goddess," Stefan breathed, tossing the sword away. "I thought..."

Soren swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the shaking in his knees as he stood. "Stefan. Are you okay?"

Stefan's eyes were dazed, but when Soren touched his wrist, the gaze turned wild. He grabbed Soren's arm and shoved him into the wall. "You think I'll let you get away with it?"

"What-"

Soren's words were cut off as Stefan grabbed his throat to cut off his air. "Don't pretend you don't know."

The mage clawed at Stefan's hands, trying to ignore the spots beginning to form and dance over his eyes, as Stefan continued to speak, his voice growing louder and louder. The door banged open, and Stefan was knocked to the floor, releasing Soren to fall to the ground, gasping for breath. Ike had thrown Stefan down and had him pinned, but before Soren could say anything, Rhys was picking him up off the floor and guiding him out of the room.

Soren leaned on the healer, unaware that he was crying until the man wiped away his tears away with a piece of cloth. The healer lowered him down onto a bed before lighting a lamp to get a better look at the bruising on the mage's neck.

"Hm, not too bad. I'll give you a vulenary so you don't have any marks in the morning," Rhys said quietly. "Now, what happened?"

Soren accepted the vulenary, trying to think past his now hazy thoughts. "I don't know. He just...attacked me. He was saying something about...I did something and he had to get back at me."

Rhys frowned. "That doesn't sound right. He would never attack you like that. Sounds like he was having a waking dream of a sort. I'll have to go check on him next. Are you going to be okay if I leave you here?"

Soren tensed, clutching at the healer's robes as an uncharacteristic sense of fear ripped through him. "I..."

Rhys gave him a small smile. "It's alright. I understand." The healer moved to sit next to Soren on the bed, wrapping a comforting arm around him. "It's a little shocking to be attacked like that, and we've had a rough couple of days. I understand just fine."

"I can't be like this. I need to get a hold of myself."

"None of that now," Rhys scolded lightly. "You were just assaulted by someone you trust. Anyone would be shaken. Ike is sure to stop by in a moment, and when he does, I'll go check on Stefan. You can stay the night here if you wish."

Soren nodded, arms looping around the healer's neck as he moved closer. The man had always been calming to be around, and there was something about it him that was just so open and willing to listen. He supposed it was because the healer helped people for a living. A knock came at the door and Rhys pulled away to open it, which left Soren feeling exposed and vulnerable. Ike was at his side in a moment, freeing up Rhys to go see just what had happened with the swordmaster.

The mage would've liked to think that he was able to remain somewhat calm in the situation, but he couldn't, flinging himself at Ike and clinging to tightly to the warrior. Ike held him gently, rubbing his back without saying anything. Soren didn't know how long they were like that, but eventually Ike got him back to the bed, slipping the mage's frail body under the covers so that he could fall asleep.

The last thing Soren was aware of, was Ike's hand slipping through his hair.

 

-.-

 

When Soren woke, Rhys was just opening the door, steaming cup in hand. "What time is it?"

"Don't worry about that. Ike's taking care of the preparations." Rhys handed the cup of tea to him as he sat up. "I think now is a good time to tell you what triggered Stefan's actions last night."

Soren sipped at the warm tea. "Go on."

"It was a waking nightmare, a reoccurrence of suppressed memories," Rhys said. "He...is very worried about you. If you are comfortable with it, I can have him speak with you before we head out."

"I think that's a good idea," Soren said, finishing off the tea in one more sip. He hadn't realized he had drunk it down so fast, but Rhys smiled and took it from him as he headed out the door.

Stefan slipped inside, eyes downcast as he shut the door. Soren rose to his feet and approached the swordmaster, frowning when he backed up a step only to find the door. "I'm sorry, Soren. I...I haven't had a dream like that in a long time. I thought they were gone."

"Don't worry," Soren murmured. "It's...we all have our secrets, and we all have memories we don't want to share. I am just sorry that yours would do this to you."

"I could've killed you last night," Stefan said, still refusing to look at the mage. "I think it would be better if you stayed away from me for awhile. For your own safety."

"No. That's not going to happen. You aren't going to run away from this," Soren said firmly. "I don't want you tell me all of your secrets. Nothing like that. I'm not going to ask you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. But I will not let you push me away either. If you want me help facing-"

"I've already faced these memories down," Stefan bit out. "This was just a fluke."

Soren finally placed a hand on the man's arm, ignoring the way Stefan tensed. "So let me in. I'm not going to abandon you. No matter what happened to you in the past...I won't leave you. If you're afraid that I am, put the thought from your mind. I would never leave you for something you couldn't control."

"I won't let you leave me, because I'm not going to tell you," Stefan said.

"What? Do you want me to be angry and demand that you tell me? Because I won't do that," Soren said. "I'm not going to give you an excuse to push me away. I'm here if you want to talk about it, and I'm not scared of you."

"I saw your face. I saw how scared you were last night, but I couldn't stop myself. Next time, I might not be able to stop at all. Next time, you might not be able to get away," Stefan whispered, pressing his forehead to Soren's, eyes closed. "I can't risk that."

"Thought you said it was a fluke," Soren said, brushing his thumbs over the man's cheekbones as he cradled his face in his hands. "If it wasn't...I'm here to help. Just ask."

Stefan buried his face in Soren's neck, breathing deeply, shoulders shaking. Soren held him tight and didn't say anything. Eventually, the swordmaster pulled away, an uneasy smile on his face. "I don't know if I'm ready to ask yet."

"That's okay. I can wait," Soren replied. "Just promise that you won't push me away."

"Promise," Stefan said as their hands twined together.

Soren leaned up and kissed him. "We should get going."

Stefan nodded his agreement, but kissed him again, slipping his tongue languidly into the mage's mouth to taste him. Soren relaxed into the kiss, letting the swordmaster erase the pain he had caused with his gentle touch. After a moment, they pulled back, both a little flushed. "Okay. Let's go."

 

-.-

 

Soren was able to walk more that day, his strength returning in small increments, especially thanks to the boost Xane had given him the other day. Rhys informed him that his body was back to producing more magical power for him to use too. Surprisingly, they got through the day with no mishaps.

When they stopped at a small town, Zihark and Jill had gone out to the local pub to start the rumor mill going about the new King, just enough to generate a buzz. Soren didn't want to make a spectacle at every town they stopped at. It was better if he only did that when he had to; like when Begnion troops were on every street corner waving their swords around. But in a more or less peaceful enough town, there was no point in causing a commotion.

The trouble didn't happen until after they had settled in for the night at the inn. Soren had just been moving to the bed to sleep while Stefan finished locking his sword in the dresser, just to be on the safe side, when an impatient knock came at the door. They exchanged puzzled glances as Soren walked over and opened the door.

"Ike?"

"Are you stupid, Soren, or just stubborn?" Ike demanded. "You can't stay in the same room as him. It's dangerous."

"Ike, I'm going to be fine-"

"You had a panic attack last night. You almost died."

"We've taken the necessary precautions to make sure Soren doesn't come to anymore harm," Stefan said, his tone pleasant.

"You could easily overpower him, with or without a sword, you know that!" Ike snapped.

"I won't hesitate to defend myself. Ike, please leave. This isn't something you should concern yourself with," Soren said.

"No? I'm just looking out for your well being since you can't seem to do it for yourself," Ike said.

"Are you implying I can't make my own decisions?"

"Not well."

"You need to leave," Stefan said, the patient note in his voice leaving.

"Making his choices for him again, I see."

"No different from you. I think you're just angry he isn't obeying you anymore. Soren does have a mind of his own. You should know. He won you battles, after all," Stefan countered.

"Leave, Ike. I won't ask again," Soren said.

Ike was gone before Soren could respond, leaving him to stare at the now closed door. Soren could see that it would need to be repaired soon. There were cracks and splinters in the wood, and no doubt countless others swimming beneath the surface. With a hard enough push, it would probably crumble and fall.

"I'm sorry," Soren said, turning to face the swordmaster. "Ike has been acting...well, not himself lately. He normally isn't that rude. But you know that."

Stefan waved his hand in dismissal. "He's having issues of his own. He'll adjust."

"Thank you though. For standing up for me. I appreciate it," Soren said, removing his outer robes and moving to lay them on top of a chair.

"I couldn't let him say those things. You are stronger than he gives you credit for/ It doesn't help that he's feeling bitter."

"Bitter?"

Stefan crooked an eyebrow. "He's upset you didn't wait for him."

"I guess...it isn't surprising, I was rather dependent on him," Soren realized with a frown. "I can see how he wouldn't be used to me being more...well, like him."

"A lot can change in a few months time," Stefan said.

"Feels like more," Soren said as he crawled into bed, holding the covers open for the other.

Stefan finished disrobing down to his underclothes and slipped in beside him. "Sleep well, little one."

 

-.-

 

"We have failed at every turn."

"So perhaps you should call in some reinforcements."

"And let the King know I failed? Yeah, I'll pass."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Kill him. By myself."

"You're mad. But be my guest. I would love to see the King's reaction when he hears you died doing something so foolish."

"I think his reaction when I bring that brat's head on a spike to his doorstep will be even better."

"You are much too full of yourself."

"Maybe, but being timid was never my strong suit."

 

-.-

 

Soren ignored Ike the next morning, busying himself with the task of making sure that everyone was on time and ready to move. As he headed out the door, Zihark intercepted him.

"Hey. Haar is on the move. He's bringing in a few reinforcements, according to Jill. I think we could do with the company," Zihark said. "From what it looks like, he's bringing a few pegasus knights he's friends with, Ulki, Janaff, Lethe, Reyson, and Naesala himself. Quite a crowd."

Soren tried to keep his surprise hidden. "The Kilvas King is coming? I wonder what his motive is," Soren mused.

Zihark offered him a rare smile. "I was just about to mention that. I would stay on our guard. He's undoubtedly going to ask for some outrageous sum of money in return, so it would be better if you asked him upfront what he wanted for payment."

Soren nodded his agreement. "Thank you, Zihark. Do we know when they'll be in?"

"Probably by late this afternoon. Jill's wyvern is back, so she can take to the skies and let us know when they're approaching," Zihark said.

"Good idea. Thank you for all the help you've given. Send my regards to Jill as well," Soren said.

"No need to thank us. We love Daein. We'll do anything to see her restored," Zihark said, his light hearted manner disappearing. "We won't leave your side."

Soren blinked. "I..."

"If you say thank you again, I might have to hit you," Zihark said. "I'll talk to you soon."

Soren nodded, a bemused expression on his face. An arm wrapped around his waist suddenly, and lips pressed into his hair. "Stefan?"

"Good morning. You were up and around so fast this morning I didn't get to say anything," Stefan said. He moved around so he could face Soren. "Are you feeling alright today?"

"Better than I have in awhile. I should be able to walk just fine," Soren said.

"Good, good. I was eavesdropping on your conversation, so no need to fill me in. Well, shall we get moving?"

The nearest city was a day and a half away. It was going to be one of the places Soren planned on stopping for a longer period of time, now that they could afford to spend time in one area longer than a day. He wanted to address the people's concerns and do what he could to help them. Granted, he didn't have a lot of gold or food to spare, but he was sure he could do something. He smirked a little at the thought. When he had been going through this area with the Greil Mercenaries all those years ago, he had shouted at Ike for being so compassionate for their enemy, and now, he was doing just that.

"Soren!"

Soren looked up at the shout as Jill descended rapidly. "What is it?"

"I found this man a little further back. He's in terrible shape," she said.

Soren glanced at Oscar, who quickly called a halt to their movements so he could get a good look at the man Jill had brought down. She hopped off her wyvern's neck, then pulled the man down and stretched him across the ground. It felt a little as though he had been punched in the stomach as he looked down and saw who it was.

Meidan was lying on the ground, and from what he could see, unconscious. Blood matted his hair and stained his ripped clothes, but Soren couldn't exactly pinpoint the wound that caused it. Before he could say anything, Colm had brushed passed him, non-chalantly drawing a knife as he did so. Stefan lunged forward and held the thief back, even when he started to struggle in earnest.

"He should be dead! Dirty traitor! Let me finish the job!"

"I have to agree with him," Xane said from beside him. "He's a terrible person Soren. We can't allow him to live."

"I want information," Soren said firmly. "Anything would be useful at this point."

Meidan's sprawled figure spasmed once and his eyes flickered, hazy and dazed as they opened fully. He turned his head, dull surprise registering in his gaze as he found Soren. "Soren? You're...alive..."

"A surprise, huh? Seeing as how you sent the goddess-damned wyvern lords on us!" Colm shouted.

"Enough," Soren said harshly. "Boyd, restrain him somewhere until we settle down for the night. I'm not going to deal with him right now. Colm, if you can't handle yourself, I'll have you restrained too."

Colm glanced away but relaxed. Stefan released him. "Sorry."

"Let's keep going. I want to find somewhere decent for the night," Soren said.

 

-.-

 

That night, Soren went to the tent where they were holding Meidan prisoner. Despite Stefan and Ike's words of protest, he insisted that he speak to the Branded alone, knowing that if he was going to get anything out of Meidan, it wouldn't be with the threat of two angry looking fighters standing above him.

Meidan's arms were bound behind his back and he sat cross-legged on the floor, gnawing on his lower lip and refusing to meet Soren's gaze. Soren sat down across from him, keeping his posture as relaxed as possible.

"I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Tell me what happened. Did you betray our position to Daein?" he asked quietly.

"I couldn't help it! You don't understand..."

"I'm willing to listen though."

Meidan was silent for a moment. Rhys had healed his wounds earlier, but his clothes were still ragged and torn, making him look rather helpless. "They caught me awhile ago. They knew that one of Ashnard's sons was Branded, and they knew that I lived with the colony in Grann Desert. They said that I had to keep an eye out for someone of dragon heritage, otherwise they would...they would kill everyone there. I didn't want everyone to have to pay for one person. I thought that I was doing the right thing, turning over one person for the good of us all. I didn't know that...that they would send an entire troop like that after you. When I found out, I ran away. They tracked me this far, and attacked. I managed to slip away again, but then I passed out from blood loss. I thought I was going to die..."

Soren tried to keep a clear head. He felt, for some reason, sympathy for the other. He was tempted to believe him, to forgive him, and welcome him. His gaze sharpened when he noticed that there was a loose piece of rope on the floor, it's edges frayed.

"Meidan...I think you're lying to me," Soren said quietly, gaze sliding over to the other side of the Branded. There, another frayed piece of rope laid.

A feral grin broke out over the other's face. "That obvious was I?"

Before Soren could so much as blink, Meidan had lunged across the distance that separated them, hands wrapping tight around his throat. "Did you think simple ropes would hold me? Are you that dumb? I'm not going to fail now, not when I have you right here. You're a dead man, Soren. When I return to the capitol, I'll be hailed as a hero!"

Soren's vision flashed as Meidan slammed his head into the ground. "Mei-"

"Shut up! You spoiled little wretch! You've never worked an honest day in your life, have you? Everything's just handed to you on a fucking golden platter, isn't it? A loyal troop, Stefan's  _love_ , royalty. You didn't have to work for any of it!"

His head hit the ground again, and he sputtered for breath, his lungs constricting as he flailed his legs. It was no use; Meidan had him thoroughly pinned. "Goodbye, Soren."

Once more, his head was slammed against the ground, and this time when his vision flashed, it never refocused. He was lost to the darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

_Dear Journal,_ **  
_  
_ **

_Day 51. Meidan returned, playing to be injured. I do not know why I wasn't more wary when I went into question him. By the time I suspected something was wrong, he was choking me. Thankfully, Stefan and Ike managed to get him off of me. I asked him a few more questions, then left him to Naesala. It turns out he was never Branded, but a laguz. He was Naesala's son. I don't quite know how to take that. And then there's Stefan. He has nightmares plaguing him, waking nightmares. I want to help him, but I don't think he'll let me._

A sudden commotion outside drove Soren out of his thoughts and he quickly tucked his journal away, peaking his head outside the tent to see what was going on. The other tents were being torn down and packed away, and Mist raced towards where he was on her horse.

"Mist, what's going on?" he asked.

"Begnion troops to the south. We think they're going to attempt an ambush," Mist said. "We're sending a few people with the majority of the supplies ahead, as well as the convoy. by the time the Begnion troops get here, we'll be ready for them."

"Wait. How many troops?"

Ike stepped up beside Mist. "A lot. It looks like they pulled their occupational forces out of all the nearby towns. Your thief, Colm, spotted them first. We sent a few more people out to see what they could find, and it turns out they're moving to surround us. There's a gap still to the north that we're sending the convoy through while we still can."

"Are we just going to sit here and let them kill us then?" Soren asked.

"You're the tactician. What do you think we should do?"

"Is Colm back?" the mage asked.

Mist nodded. "I'll go find him."

"I want a better estimate of how many troops we'll be facing if we stay. Are there winged units, can you tell me that?" Soren demanded.

"Plenty. They'll have us blocked in from above if we try to escape that way," Ike said. "If we go, we go through that gap while it's still there. I'm just amazed their attempting an ambush like this. Did they think we wouldn't notice?"

"Or they think we're getting soft," Soren murmured. "I'm more concerned with how they found us in the first place."

"I have an idea," Naesala said, moving towards them. "I was able to squeeze a little more information out of Meidan. You forgot some very important questions. I guess you'll learn with time. It seems after Meidan found out where we were, he gave Begnion troops a rough estimate of where you were before going and playing injured victim."

"Lovely," Soren said. "You can't fight in the dark, can you?"

"No. I can't. Neither can the hawks. We'll be going with the convoy, if you don't mind," Naesala said.

"I'd rather not have useless units hanging around that I have to worry about protecting, so that's probably the best idea," Soren said.

"Your bluntness is refreshing," Naesala drawled before slinking away.

"Soren, I'm here," Colm said, jogging towards him. "What do you need to know?"

"Be honest with me," Soren said, looking the thief in the eyes. "Do we stand a chance if we stay?"

Colm rolled his shoulders back and forth a few times, gaze slipping to the side. "Maybe. I think we could pull it off. Plus...if word gets back to the capitol that you flattened this many forces, it can restore hope to the Daein people. I say it's worth the risk."

Soren nodded. "Thank you. We'll stay then. Come with me." He gestured to both Ike and Colm. "Mist, if you could go get Stefan and Jill as well."

Inside his tent, there was a broad table with the map spread out on top of it. "If we do this, we will need an escape route. Just in case. We have no cover at all. Just field for several miles. Pulling out would be difficult. We'd have to cut a path and then beat the pursuit. I don't know if that's possible."

"Say we stay though. How should we fight without any cover?" Colm asked.

"We'll need to form a defensive circle," Soren said, grabbing his quill and beginning to draw in what he meant. "Paladins, warriors, swordmasters, generals, and laguz. Inside the circle, mages and bow users. Colm, can you defend yourself against troops?"

Colm smirked. "I move too fast for them to catch me Soren. You should know that by now."

Soren offered the barest twitch of a smile in return. "I know Stefan and Zihark can handle themselves just fine. We have four falconknights according to Haar, so-"

Jill burst into the tent, Haar behind her. "Mist said you needed to see us?"

"Right on time," Soren said. "Be honest with me now. Can you and your fliers hold off Begnion falconknights?"

"Of course," Jill said. "We won't let any of them reach you. Are we really doing this?"

"Still deciding," Soren said. "Colm, about how many troops are we looking at?"

Colm crossed his arms, eyes glancing to the top of the tent as he thought. "I'd say about one hundred fifty. Give or take ten."

"Those odds aren't good," Jill said, biting her lip. "How many winged units though?"

"I'd say about thirty."

"We'll be fine," Haar said.

"So that leaves another one hundred twenty for us," Soren said. "Ike?"

"Possible. I know how the Greil Mercenaries fight, and you have to admit the pay off of this being a huge boost in moral for the people is worth it. I say we go for it," Ike said with a firm nod.

"Sounds like things are worked out," came Stefan's voice as he entered the tent.

"It would seem so. Is everyone comfortable with this decision? If you think we should do otherwise, say something now, I won't hold it against you," Soren said, gazing around the tent and fixing every last person with a firm gaze. "No one?"

"Let's just get this over with," Jill said. "I'm sick and tired of my country being occupied. If we can wipe out a whole bunch of their forces here, let's do it, alright?"

Soren nodded. "Alright then. Everyone get ready for a fight."

"Are you going to be alright?" Stefan asked lowly, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close so he could whisper in his ear. "How are your magic levels?"

"Stefan, I'll be fine. Believe me," Soren said.

It didn't take long for them to pull the rest of the tents down and send the convoy off, leaving Soren with his forces. He was glad then, that he was fighting with old friends and not just random troops that had come under his care, for the Greil Mercenaries responded well to his words, not needing any clarification, and the rest of them had known him for so long, even if they hadn't been following his directions as long as the mercenaries, that they were able to get into position just fine.

Before long, there was a loose square of units surrounding about sixteen square feet of bare ground where Soren, Xane, Rhys and a few weaker units stood. Haar and Jill had already spread out to run quick guerilla attacks on the incoming Begnion falconknights. With no cloud cover and a full moon for light, Soren could see them off in the distance, weaving in and out with their axes and lances to cut down the winged units. He shouldn't have been surprised that before the foot troops had even reached them, Haar and his troops had wiped out all thirty falconknights, and were flying back to give them more support.

"Soren!" Jill shouted, sweeping down and landing deftly in the open area. "Their General wishes to speak with you. He has raised a white flag."

Soren looked past the paladins and saw that she was indeed right. A white flag soared high above the Begnion troop's heads, held by a stocky looking man, covered in blue armor.

"We will meet in the middle. We are allowed one other person," Soren said. "Under no circumstances are either side allowed to attack until we are back with our troops. Is that understood?"

Jill nodded and took to the air again, swooping high over the General and yelling down Soren's terms. She wheeled back and gave him a thumbs up.

"I'm going with you," Ike said, brushing past Stefan.

Soren nodded. Ike was stronger than Stefan. He could defend better than the swordmaster, and was a lot better at taking brutal hits than the other man, so he was a wiser person to take with him to the middle. Soren stood slightly in front of Ike as the General made his way over with a paladin. The man himself gripped a heavy looking axe that made Soren want to step back and let Ike just kill the man before he was able to get too close.

He removed his helmet, revealing long red hair down to his shoulders, and startling green eyes that nearly glowed in the moonlight. Or maybe Soren was just imaging things. "As you can see, you are greatly outnumbered. I feel as though it would be futile for you to fight us."

"If you recall, thirty of your units were wiped out by six of mine. And they can handle much more. Perhaps, our positions are reversed," Soren said. "Have you called me here just to talk about who's stronger, or shall we actually test it?"

"I will spare your men's lives if you surrender. All we want is you. If you come with us, we shall leave your troops alone," the man said.

"I will have to decline," Soren said.

"And if I told you we have another one hundred troops on their way?"

"I would still decline. In fact. I do decline. You underestimate us, severely," Soren said. "Return to your troops. We will begin immediately."

"You are a suicidal man, aren't you?"

"No, just determined to win my country back," Soren said.

"And you. Ike. The man who freed Crimea from the yoke of Daein's oppression. Why do you fight for those you once did your best to destroy?"

"I was unaware my morals were under question," Ike said. "And isn't that exactly what I'm doing now? I'm fighting to free a country that is being crushed under the occupation of another."

The general's expression grew angry. "Then your death will meet you swiftly. Goodbye."

The man lunged forward, axe held high. Soren reacted instantly, dancing back and sending a bolt of lightning from the tips of his fingers, shocking the man and sending him sprawling onto his back. Thankfully, Jill was alert, and she swooped down before the paladin or the general could react, seizing Soren by his cloak and swinging him onto the back of her wyvern.

Ike moved smoothly, striking down the paladin in two moves before sprinting back towards the line of defense as the Begnion troops charged forward. Jill dropped Soren unceremoniously to the ground, but he was up again in seconds, calling wind to his fingertips and sending it towards the Begnion troops, knocking as many of them down as he could before they reached the others.

"Stay close!" Ike shouted as he deflected an axe.

The command was unnecessary; their troops performed smoothly, without any hesitation. Soren felt a clammy hand slip into his and realized it was Xane, feeding him magic power without his asking, a look of concern on his face. Not willing to fight over it, Soren just accepted it and felled a paladin as it charged towards them. The hole they had been exposed by was soon filled by Jill, who had landed her wyvern and was spinning her lance overhead. She sent it forward, unseating a man from his horse before attacking once more to finish the job. The moment she took to the air again, her place was taken by Zihark.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught someone darting under Boyd's guard, slashing at his arm as he slipped past. The next moment, he was before Soren, knife arching up above him. He cut down and Soren brought his arm up, breath rushing out of him when he realized he had caught the attacker's wrist, stopping the knife a mere inch from his cheek.

Xane moved then, before either of them could pull away, tackling the man to the ground and whipping his own dagger out to slit the man's throat. He stood without grabbing the knife, and Soren realized then that Xane had just stolen the man's own knife out of his hand before he could see it. There was no time to give it anymore thought though, for the fighting only intensified, dragging out longer than Soren wanted. The longer the battle waged, the less chance they had of surviving. Their fighters were good, but even they grew tired of constant fighting.

"Retreat!" shouted the voice of the general.

The troops turned and began a full out retreat at his command, but Soren was having none of it, though inside he wished nothing more than to let them go and rest. "Follow them! Bring the general to me alive!"

Haar and Jill were the first to react, then Mordecai and Lethe, weaving past their own warriors to cut off the retreating figures. Rhys and Mist moved swiftly to heal their own fighters, who were looking ragged and exhausted as the adrenaline began to wash out of them. Once the area was barren of any enemy troops, Soren allowed himself to relax minimally.

"We're alive," Xane said, glancing up at him as he sat down on the ground.

"Somehow," Soren mused. "I'll be happy when I have that General chained up on the ground in front of me."

"So will I," Ike said. "There was something odd about him."

"You noticed too?" Soren asked.

Ike nodded. "There they are."

Soren followed his gaze, watching as Mordecai and Lethe guided the man across the bloody battlefield towards where Soren stood, Lethe in human form with Mordecai growling at him from behind to keep him moving.

"Get him to the others. Tie him down, make sure he's secure. We'll follow once we deal with this," Soren said with a firm nod.

Mordecai bobbed his head in response, but Lethe didn't even glance at him, keeping her gaze fixed away.

"You go with them," Ike said. "We'll take care of the bodies. You need to find out whatever you can."

Soren nodded. "Thank you."

Ike smiled and shrugged. "You need to worry about him, not the small details."

"Actually, I need to worry about everything," Soren said, but then walked after Mordecai.

Thankfully, the general didn't speak. Soren wasn't exactly in the mood to listen to the man ramble or rant to him, wanting only to get the man properly restrained so he could catch a quick nap before dealing with him. He knew if he asked questions now, he would only become angry and lose his temper, and worst of all, he doubted he would be able to process any of the information the man was telling him. Yes, it was a better idea to just let it rest for the night.

The sound of thudding hooves reached his ears, and he turned, momentarily distracted. Mist reigned in her horse upon reaching him, settling into a brisk trot.

"Ike sent me ahead to help you guys out. Not that you really need it."

Soren leaned against her horse, thankful that Ike had bothered to send Mist ahead. By the time he returned to the convoy, he only had time to order the man's containment before pitching forward into darkness.

 

-.-

 

Naesala stared down at the unconscious mage that had passed out face first into his chest. "You heard the man, take care of him." He gestured towards the man Mordecai was carefully guarding.

He made no move to support Soren, staring down at him as if he would magically awaken and he wouldn't have to deal with it. Mist dismounted from her horse, fixing Naesala with a cool stare.

"Well, aren't you going to help him?"

"Not my job," Naesala said. "You do it."

Mist rolled her eyes and wrapped her arm around Soren's waist, pulling him back and then lightly shaking him. It took a few moments, but he was finally roused and he leaned heavily on the girl, eyes lidded. With another hard stare directed at Naesala, she helped the mage to a warm bed. Once they were a safe distance from battle, those who had left had made sure to set up tents and prepare a hot meal for their fighters. Naesala himself hadn't helped; he didn't see the point in doing manual labor himself when there were plenty of other people to take care of it.

He started to turn around but a noise stopped him. He turned back to the forest, squinting to see Zihark and Stefan scrambling through the trees and into the open clearing.

"The others are following. Is Soren here?" Stefan asked.

"Yeah, back there," Naesala said, pointing vaguely.

Stefan didn't make a sharp remark, instead taking off in that direction without another word. Zihark however stopped in front of him, an odd light in his eyes.

"I see you didn't bother to help Soren out when he fainted," Zihark said.

"Hm, you saw that? Odd. I don't have to explain myself to you though." Naesala turned away then, not wanting to hear another word from the swordmaster. He wasn't in much of a caring mood.

"I need someone to share a meal with. Care to join me?"

Naesala paused at the offer. He knew the swordmaster wanted to talk to him about Meidan; that much was obvious, the real question, was whether or not he himself was ready to talk about Meidan. If he was honest with himself, the answer was no. Instead, he shrugged. "Alright. Lead the way. Did we suffer any casualties?"

"Nothing but a few cuts and bruises. We'll be fine," Zihark said, striding in front of Naesala and leading the way to the middle of the camp. "Soren did a really good job. Even without the bird laguz."

"If you're trying to say I'm not needed, I can leave. I have no problem with that."

Zihark ignored Naesala's words, instead taking a big spoonful of soup and ladling it into the bowl the cook had passed him. "Of course now Begnion's going to have to come after us because we killed so many of their troops. That man Soren was leading was the general of the group that attacked us. Should have a lot of interesting things to say, if someone can get the answers out of him."

Zihark sat down on a rotting log and began gulping down the soup, not paying attention to Naesala's calculated gaze. He stood, got another bowl and sat back down, not even glancing at Naesala.

"You beorc are absolutely disgusting when you eat," Naesala commented. It was petty, trying to get a rise out of the swordmaster, but it had turned into somewhat of a game for him. He wanted to see that vulnerability that the man had so carefully locked away after the night he had confronted Meidan.

Zihark merely shrugged in response though. "So, do you think you could do it? The guy seems pretty quiet, and not at all willing to talk. He was quite the powerhouse on the field too. It was difficult to get him under control for awhile. I think as soon as he senses a weakness he'll try and bolt. Or at least kill as many of us as he can before he goes down."

"I see what you're trying to do. Stop."

"Oh? What am I trying to do?"

"You're trying to bait me into interrogating that man Soren brought in. While I will question my own, I do not wish to associate with beorc anymore than absolutely necessary," Naesala said.

"Are you really that paranoid? I was just making conversation," Zihark said. "But hey, I understand. You don't want to be in a room with a guy who could go psycho and snap your neck. I'm sure Soren can handle him though."

"There is no one that Soren can handle that I can't. Don't be ridiculous," Naesala said.

Zihark just shrugged and returned his bowl to the cook. He gave a parting wave to the Crow King and headed off to his own tent. He wondered briefly if the swordmaster actually thought he was too weak to deal with the man. Just because he had bird bones didn't mean he would let himself be over powered by some hulking beorc; he wasn't so stupid that he couldn't dodge or get out of the way.

Mind made up, Naesala headed for the tent he had seen the others drag their prisoner off too, determined to get some answers before Soren even woke up. Just to prove that he could.

 

-.-

 

Soren woke to someone crawling into bed beside him, a strong arm wrapping around his waist and tugging him close. Sighing, he nuzzled closer, kissing Stefan's lips lightly.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to eat with you. I was just so tired once we got back," he mumbled.

"Don't worry. It seems like all of your work has been done for you. Naesala was interrogating the prisoner last I checked. I ran here to make sure you were alright first, but decided maybe I should take care of the other tasks, to cut down on your work load later. Seems that everyone else was thinking the same thing."

Soren frowned and pushed himself up, head tilted to the side. "Naesala was doing something for me? That's odd."

Stefan grinned, and Soren felt more than heard the man chuckle. "Don't complain. He can fill you in tomorrow. If he does tell you why he did it, please tell me. I'm just as amazed as you are."

Soren leaned down and kissed the man's smiling lips, a smile of his own matching it. "So everyone else was okay? No serious injuries, nothing beyond our abilities to take care of?"

"Oscar's horse pulled a muscle so he'll have to be taken care of, and babied for awhile. I think Oscar looks forward to it," Stefan said, a musing expression on his face. "But that's it. Your plan was simple but effective. I think your message will spread quickly, and it will be a strong message at that. Begnion will know you aren't to be messed with, and the Daein people loyal to a true king will begin to hope. You have done...an amazing job so far."

"You know, I was expecting any of this when I made my choice to come live with you. Look at all the trouble you've gotten me into," Soren said with a note of playful scolding in his voice.

"I don't think it's a bad thing. I'd prefer this to a life of dull, eventless days that drag on for years. I tried that, didn't work out so well," Stefan said, pulling him down for another, deeper kiss. "And just think. If you hadn't come with me, you wouldn't be in my bed, and I know how much you enjoy that."

"I don't know. I think I could be just fine without that part. Yes, I think I'll go. I prefer my own bed," Soren said with a firm nod. He pulled himself up and started to clamber over the swordmaster only to be yanked down onto the cot and pinned there, Stefan hovering over him with a smirk on his face and a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You aren't going anywhere."

Soren sighed. "I don't know. Not convinced yet."

Stefan leaned down, laughing against his neck before blowing on it teasingly. "How about now?"

"Nope."

The swordmaster nibbled on his throat, then his ear, finally moving to his lips and giving him a deep, toe curling kiss that left Soren gasping beneath him. "And?"

"Okay, I'm convinced. I suppose I'll stay."

Stefan just laughed again and lowered himself onto the bed beside him. "Good night, Soren. Rest easy."

Soren murmured a reply and pulled himself close before dropping into blissful sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

_Dear Journal,_

_Day 52. Begnion attacked us last night. They sent a sizable force after us and to be honest, I was worried about whether or not we would survive. Ike commanded the troops admirably though, so I had nothing to worry about. We also managed to-_

"Why is Ike's name in your journal but not mine? Shouldn't I be in there, about how I convinced you to stay and keep my bed warm?" Stefan's breath ghosted over his ear and Soren smiled, leaning back and kissing the man's cheek.

"You aren't still jealous are you? There's no reason to feel threatened," Soren said.

Stefan smirked. "Oh I know. Shall I get you breakfast before we go and talk to Naesala?"

"Yes please," Soren said, pushing his chair back and turning to face Stefan.

He leaned forward, hands roaming over the man's chest as he kissed him firmly. Stefan made a stifled noise of surprise, shocked at Soren's forwardness. The kiss became deeper until he was grasping at the mage's slim waist and tugging at his robes without thinking, as if he could pull them away and get closer. Soren backed off suddenly though, his own smirk dancing in his lips.

"Good morning Stefan."

"Where's this new confidence coming from, hm?"

"We're still alive. Isn't that reason enough?" Soren asked.

"Hm, I guess. I'll be back in a moment," Stefan said, pressing another quick kiss to his lips. Soren didn't let him go though, pulling him close by the frond of his own robed shirt, kisses spreading to his chin and neck. "You keep doing that and I won't leave."

"Sounds like a plan," Soren said, nipping at his neck.

Stefan let out a soft groan. "Any other time and I would throw you on that bed and have my way with you but we have work to do today. I never thought I would be the one to say that."

Soren chuckled, then wrapped his arms tight around him in a hug. "Get something for yourself too. Then we can go talk to Naesala."

"No, no, if I come back to this tent with you, we will never leave. Why don't you go find Naesala? I'll join you there."

Soren nuzzled Stefan's neck in the form of a nod then pulled away. "Alright. I'll see you in a bit."

As soon as Stefan was gone, Soren remember what he just done, and felt his face flush in embarrassment. He honestly didn't know what had overcome him, what had made him want to ravish the man so completely. Perhaps it was the fact that they had been faced with death the night before, and he had been too wary to feel the enormity of it until Stefan was pressed against his back, alive and warm. The night before was surreal, like a dream, and he wasn't quite sure had actually been alive until he woke up the following morning. Yeah. That's all it was.

Deep down, he knew what it was though. He actually cared that deeply for Stefan. But for now he was content to dance around just how deeply he cared for him.

Sighing, he stretched and popped his spine, a low groan escaping his lips. He opened the tent flap and walked out into the cool morning, happy to see the sun rising. The camp was bustling already, most of the tents being pulled down once more, minus the main strategy tent. That stayed up until the last moment possible. As he made his way towards Naesala's tent, he took in the sight of his troops as they went about their business, pleased to see that though they looked tired, they were still alive and well.

He flipped the tent flap open, stopping when he realized the Crow King wasn't there. Puzzled, he backed out and glanced around, wondering where else he could find the Crow King, finally deciding to check the prisoner's tent. His second guess was correct. Naesala was crouched over the general's struggling form, boot pressed against his throat, applying a steady pressure.

"I can keep pressing or you can tell me what I want to know, up to you," Naesala said. "Or, I could get into some of my more creative methods."

"Have you been at this all night?" Soren asked, keeping his expression impassive as he stepped up beside Naesala.

Naesala looked up, but didn't remove his foot. "Yes, but I did give him a few hours break. I don't want him completely broken."

"Good. Leave him for now," Soren said, glancing down at the now turning purple face. "I would like to speak with you outside. Stefan might even bring you breakfast if you ask nicely."

"Hm, already ate. Be back in a bit," Naesala said, patting the man's cheek before pushing himself off and leaving the man gasping on the floor. "Don't bother with a guard. He's secure."

Soren glanced down, observing with a cold gaze that the man was rooted to the ground tightly by metal chains in hooks, his body contorted into an awkward shape. If he had been left like that all night, he had no doubt that the man's muscles had already cramped up. Once they were out of the tent and out of earshot, Soren stopped and fixed Naesala with an unreadable gaze. His stare didn't work, for the man only gazed back with the same look.

"I'm not going to apologize for being rough. That's mild compared to what I was doing earlier," Naesala said.

"Did you even get any information though?" Soren asked.

"Yes, of course. Do you really think so low of me?"

"Some men clam up under torture, I didn't know if he had," Soren said. "So, what did you find out?"

He was interrupted by Stefan pressing some dried meat into his hands. He broke off a piece and began to eat, looking pointedly at the King so he would start talking.

"He was sent by the apostle. The apostle is aware that it is you she's fighting, and she knows that it's Ike helping you. So in other words, your precious ally is stabbing you very thoroughly in the back. He says there's no way Begnion will stop until it's own figurehead is on the throne."

"She must want a bloodbath then," Stefan muttered.

"So if you already got all of that information, why are you still strangling him?"

"See what they know about Daein's forces. The force that attacked you before can't be the only one they had, and since Begnion troops are working hand in hand with the current King's forces, he should have some information on them," Naesala said. "Shall I keep working on it?"

"Give it a rest for awhile. You can try again when we stop for lunch. I'll assign someone else to guard him for now," Soren said.

"What, you don't trust me?"

"Quite the contrary. I trust you to do your job quite well, too well in fact. I know you'd continue some form of psychological torture while we move, and I don't want him do messed up when I talk to him," Soren said. "In all seriousness, thank you Naesala. I appreciate what you did."

Naesala looked at him for a moment, blinking. Then his expression became angry. "That bloody swordsman-"

He whirled around and stalked away from then, leaving a stunned Soren and amused Stefan behind.

 

-.-

 

Zihark finished polishing his sword and slipped it into his sheath, wiping the cloth over the hilt absently. He began to stand up, but at that moment a black blur entered his tent and pushed him back down on the cot. Startled, he looked up to see Naesala towering above him, eyes glinting.

"You tricked me?"

"Me, trick you? No. You're the king of tricks, not me. I couldn't best you like that." Despite his words, Zihark was smirking up at the crow, trying not to laugh at his expression. "Please tell me what I did."

"You made me to interrogate that filthy beorc to lighten Soren's workload," Naesala bit out, his teeth grinding together.

"I fail to see how I could make you do anything, Naesala. I don't recall threatening you at all. I can't say I know where you're coming from," Zihark said. "If you did anything, it was because you wanted to. I think you should just admit that you want to be here."

"You are not going to trick me into anything again," Naesala said firmly.

Zihark crooked an eyebrow up. "You are delusional."

The swordmaster stood and pulled his pack over his shoulders. Naesala stepped in front of him but Zihark just brushed past him, leaving him standing alone in a tent that wasn't even his.

"You want to play mind games, do you? You shouldn't have challenged me."

 

-.-

 

"I can't believe the apostle would turn on us like that," Ike said as he walked beside Soren. "I thought maybe the Begnion troops were under someone else's jurisdiction while they were here, but for the apostle to actually be pursing us like this..."

"It's not that hard to believe. For all her words and posturing, the apostle is like any other leader. When she sees a war torn country with no one willing to help it, it's just asking to be taken over. No one would fight for it, it must've seemed like an easy job. But now that someone is fighting against her, she only wants it all the more," Soren said with a shrug.

"The apostle's not like that," Ike protested.

"How would you know? Nobles are great at pretending," Soren said. "You've said so yourself."

"But she...I guess you could be right. I still don't like it," Ike said.

"Neither do I, but believing that the apostle had our best wishes at heart would be foolish. In her eyes, I'm an illegitimate King. She owes nothing to me. And since you rejected your noble title, she doesn't owe anything to you either, not even pretend courtesy. In her eyes, we're probably nothing more than rebels," Soren told him, eyes rooted to the ground beneath his feet. "It's not a pleasant thought, but that's how it is. We just have to adjust to it."

A noise interrupted Ike before he could speak, coming from the back where they had put their prisoner. Soren whirled and ran back to where the fight had broken out, skidding to a halt when he saw a knife lodged deep in the general's throat. His eyes were blank and glassy, their mysterious green glow dying away as he thudded to the ground, chains rattling. For a moment, no one moved, unsure of how to react to what just happened.

"Would someone care to explain?" Soren asked after a lengthy moment.

"What do you want to do about every one else?" Ike asked

"Call a break. We'll take an early lunch while we take care of his body and figure out what happened," Soren said, glancing at the two who had been assigned to guard him, Zihark and Colm. "Well?"

"He was fine, not protesting or anything. Then he just attacked Zihark, and Zihark was handling himself fine but I went to help," Colm began.

"Then he turned and grabbed Colm's hand and drove the knife into his own throat. It was...suicide," Zihark said quietly, staring down at the still, hulking form. "I guess it makes sense. He didn't want to tell you anything else."

Soren nodded. "That seems to be the most likely explanation. Was Naesala back here? Did he say anything to him?"

Both the thief and the swordmaster shook their heads.

"Alright then. Take care of his body. Give him a...proper burial."

"Soren?" Colm looked surprise. "He attacked you without warning."

"What happens in battle doesn't matter. He's a Begnion knight. He deserves a proper burial," Soren said firmly. "And that's what we'll give him. Be quick about it though. We're only stopping for twenty minutes at the most."

He turned away, reaching into his shoulder pack for a piece of dried fruit, biting into it despite the way his stomach was rolling in protest. It could have been shock, or just disgust for seeing the man's dead, limp body before him. He finished the fruit and then drifted towards the stores to discuss their supplies with Muston, needing to keep his mind occupied. Killing someone in battle was normal, something he was used to. To see the body that close to him, knowing who it was, made it too personal, even if he didn't like who it was. He had no intention of killing the man once they had all the information they could get out of him; it was better to keep him and use him as a bargaining chip.

But the man had robbed them of even that use. Soren realized with a shock that they never even learned his name. That was what really drove it home. The mage gave Muston a hurried excuse and moved past the convoy and out of the crush of bodies, feeling the shock hit him as he escaped.

A hand snagged his wrist and pulled him into a warm chest and he leaned into it gratefully, squeezing his eyes tight as he steadied his breathing, taking in the deep smell of Stefan.

"No one can see you, we're behind the convoy," Stefan murmured in his ear. "It's okay."

Soren didn't dignify the words with a response, instead just wondering how he could be so cruel as to torture a man so much that he wanted to kill himself, and still never know his name. Was he really so heartless that he would allow for something like that to happen? The man had lost all of his comrades, and hadn't been allowed rest, instead being tortured by a master of manipulation, all why he had been snug in his bed, warm and well fed.

"You're not a monster," Stefan said, as if he reading his thoughts. He slipped his fingers through the silky strands of Soren's hair, trying to comfort the mage as best he could. "You didn't do anything wrong. This is war, and terrible things happen. It's not your fault."

"I know that. I don't know...I can't..."

Stefan just drew him closer, seeming to know that Soren wasn't really in the right mood to articulate his feelings accurately. "Did you eat? I know you probably don't feel like it right now, but it's important that you do. Just because you're magic power is mostly restored doesn't mean you're suddenly better."

"I know. I had some fruit," Soren mumbled, keeping his arms wrapped tight around the swordmaster.

"Not enough," Stefan said as he pulled away and held up a stick of dried meat. "Eat that too. Then I'll be happy. But only if you eat another while we march."

Soren nodded his agreement and took a bite, pretending it didn't taste like sawdust in his mouth. Stefan saw his expression though, and once he had swallowed it, Stefan gave him a kiss, fingers drifting over his fine jaw and brushing his hair off his shoulder. Smiling softly, Soren realized it was Stefan's way of rewarding him, so he continued to eat, content to lose himself in Stefan's sweet kisses in between bites. Stefan's fingers tickled his sides as he gave him one last kiss, forcing a laugh out of the mage's lips as he threw his head back, struggling to get away from the swordmaster.

"Better?" Stefan asked, tugging him close and nuzzling his neck.

"Yes. Thank you." Soren returned the embrace, resting his head on the messy green hair.

Stefan braced his legs and picked him up suddenly, pressing their lips together in one more tight kiss before setting him down. Feeling much better, Soren allowed the older to pull him back around to the front of the convoy.

 

-.-

 

Later that night, Soren stared down at the map, marking off where they were. Ahead of them were two more major cities, and then the capitol. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing his tired eyes as he tried to think of the best course of action. Capture both cities or head straight to the capitol? He needed to talk to Ike, that's what he needed to do. Ike would know if the troops would be able to handle that many battles in such a short amount of time, being much more connected with them then he could ever hope to be.

He stood up and exited the tent, trying to pull himself together and make the dazed look in his eyes go away. With a noise of warning, he entered the blue-haired fighter's tent, not all that surprised to see him pouring over a copy of the map Soren had given him.

"Ike, I want to talk to you about some strategy tactics," Soren said, moving up to stand beside him.

Ike gave him a small smile. "Good, I was just about to go find you."

"So, we have two major cities. Since they're so close to the capitol, it probably isn't too big of a stretch to assume that they have Begnion, Daein, or both troops occupying them. I'm wondering if we would be able to liberate both cities."

Ike leaned back in his chair. "We have a bit of a problem, Soren. We're completely outmatched. We can't take on Begnion, not with the apostle giving the operation her full support. I wish we could, but that's impossible, I can't lie to you. We don't have the resources for it."

Soren knew that, deep down. He knew that while the added troops from the last few days had been needed and had helped a lot, it wasn't enough to take down the main force of Daein's forces as well as Begnion's. There just simply was no way they could do it with so few people. Which left him where?

"Will Gallia support us? Or Crimea?" Soren asked.

"We could send to Crimea for a few troops. Or we could hire some mercenaries," Ike said. "And don't forget we have to worry about Sothe's group. They're going to be vying for the throne too."

"Goddess damned. We aren't getting out of this alive," Soren murmured. "A three-way war is going to end in too much destruction. There's no way any of us could survive."

"Is there anyway we can get Sothe to join us?" Ike asked.

"I don't think so. I really didn't get the idea that they were willing to help us last time we talked," Soren said.

"Sounds like war talk in here," came Stefan's voice as he walked in. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Hm?" Soren asked, turning to look at him.

"I know a way to get thirty more bodies here to fight," Stefan said. "And all of them would be more than willing, and would be very helpful in a fight."

"Stefan, no. This is my fight. I can't ask them to risk their lives for me," Soren said, shaking his head.

"Shut up. I'm their leader, and they trust me, and they love you. They know that you have their best interest at heart, and they know that if you get this, you can help not only the Daein people but them as well. The only reason they agreed to go into hiding was because I ordered them," Stefan said. "They want to fight."

"I'm lost. Help me out," Ike said, glancing between them.

"He means the rest of the Branded colony," Soren said, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I'm saying no."

Stefan didn't back off. "And I'm saying yes. I already sent one of Haar's pegasus knights to retrieve them."

"Where are they?" Ike asked.

"They're hiding down in Kilvas," Stefan said. "And, I already talked to Naesala. Naesala is going to bring them up using his own troops."

"Let me guess. You threatened Naesala. You didn't talk to him. There's no way he'd agree to force his fighters to carry a whole bunch of Branded that far, that quick." Realization dawned on Soren's expression. "Dammit, what did you promise him?"

"A statue. And some gold," Stefan said with a shrug.

"A statue? Of what?" Ike asked.

"Himself, made out of gold. For his own palace. He just wants us to pay for it," Stefan said. "Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Is he really bought so cheaply?" Ike asked.

"It's a big statue," Stefan said with a smirk. "So I believe that gives us around sixty more units to depend on."

Soren groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know if I should punch you or say thank you or-"

"I'm not done yet. I also talked to Reyson. Tibarn himself is going to join the fight, and he's bringing forty of his own fighters."

"Goddess, Stefan. You're a genius. An insufferable, idiotic genius," Soren said.

"Wait, don't praise me yet," Stefan said, his smirk growing into a wide grin. "I stopped by at an inn in one of those towns we passed through and asked for Volke. Just our luck, he was there. I asked his price, and if it was possible to hire a few more assassins to our cause. It took us awhile to find some that wouldn't then try and kill Volke once their contract with us was up, but it's taken care of now. Three assassins doesn't sound like a lot, but they an do a lot of damage."

"Is there anything more you need to tell us?" Ike asked, a smile on his lips.

"Nope, that's it. I'd give it four or five days for them to get here. I suggest we start devising a plan for storming the Keep and capturing those cities."

"Go get Naesala, Reyson, and Ulki. We need to start," Soren said, feeling revitalized. Now that they were closer to standing a fighting chance, his outlook on the situation had taken a turn for the better.

 

-.-

 

It was late when Soren finally turned in, burrowing into the covers as Stefan stripped off his outer robes. His mind was still racing at a gallop, and he felt excitement tingling beneath his skin as he thought about the next few days. Yes, it would be difficult and grueling, but they were so close, he was so close to getting the throne and fixing the broken country he had set out to rescue. Before, it was like a far off distant dream, intangible, slipping through his fingers, diluted by thoughts of dwindling supplies and meager forces, but after so much planning, it was closer. He could almost feel it.

"You look happy," Stefan said, turning the lamp up so it's flame grew brighter. "Wonder why that is."

He crawled on top of the mage who stretched out beneath him, arms above his head. Soren leaned up, his gaze expectant as he waited for Stefan's kiss. Stefan obliged, pressing their lips together and pushing Soren down onto the mattress, covering the mage with his body as he plunged deep into the kiss. The mage squirmed, clutching his shoulders as Stefan pushed a calloused hand under his thin shirt to tease over his stomach, touch fleeting.

"More," Soren whispered into his mouth, pressing up against him in an attempt to get closer.

Stefan chuckled but obeyed, sliding his hand down to push Soren's hips up against his, letting the mage feel his arousal. If he hadn't been so excited by the turn of events, Soren would've been ashamed of how eagerly he responded, nipping at Stefan's lips as he pushed up tighter. After a day like that, he needed to get all the pent up energy out, and if Stefan was offering he was more than willing to take him up on it. He shivered, remembering what had happened last time he had let himself get carried away in the same manner.

The swordmaster was encourage by the shiver, leaning further into the touch as he slid his hand back up to rub against the mage's pale torso, up to twist his hard nubs until Soren was dissolved into a bundle of whimpers. It was hard, biting back all those noises, but Soren didn't want everyone in the camp to hear him. But Stefan seemed determined to break his resolve as he decided his next goal would be the mage's slim and exposed neck.

"Stefan," Soren hissed, bucking up into his grip as Stefan slid their hips together in a deliciously sinful rhythm. "We can't make too much noise!"

"You were the one asking for more," Stefan murmured as he captured an earlobe between his teeth, nibbling gently. "Guess you'll have to work harder to stay quiet."

His hand snaked down beneath the mage's thin pants to lightly tease the tip of his arousal, pulling back so he could watch the pleasure on his lover's face, watch him try and not make a noise. Smirking, he bent down to kiss the mage, swallowing the younger's whimpers and moans as he began a slow and steady stroke up and down the hardened flesh. Soren accepted the deep kiss, as eager as it was. Stefan's hand felt just as good as the the last time, warm and tight, tugging at his length with just the right strength.

"Little one, I want to try something with you," Stefan murmured, stilling his hand. "Just to see if you'll like it."

Soren looked up at him and nodded, wondering briefly if he would be able to stay quiet throughout Stefan's little idea, and then decided he was past caring. "Yeah. Okay."

Stefan trailed his hand back up to Soren's mouth, lightly tracing his lips before hooking the lower one and slipping three of his fingers inside. It was then that the mage realized what Stefan's plan was, and his heart raced at the thought, a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Stefan seemed to read his emotions on his face, and as Soren slipped his tongue over his broad fingers, he leaned down to press surprisingly chaste kisses against his neck. Tense muscles eased under Stefan's gentle ministrations, and he barely noticed Stefan's other hand pushing his pants down to his knees.

As he drew his now wet fingers from Soren's mouth, he pushed them the rest of the way down before ducking his head to run his tongue over the tip of his arousal. Soren closed his eyes and bit his lip to muffle the moan that wanted to escape, though his eyes flew open once more as Stefan teased his entrance like before. He was gentle, pressing a little, but never enough to breach him, keeping most of Soren's focus on the way his mouth had enveloped his length, trapping it in the wet heat.

It ached a little when the swordmaster finally pressed his finger in, just a little, making sure to go slow so as not to hurt the younger. Soren squirmed at the feeling, not finding it pleasurable, but not really hating it either. Stefan dotted kisses over his thighs, his other hand moving to keep stroking his length as he probed a bit deeper. Sighing, Soren focused in on the warm hand that worked over his length, letting Stefan stretch his entrance out. Not long after, he added a second finger, stretching the muscle before crooking the tips of his fingers, as if searching for something.

Soren's hips jerked and a low moan finally broke free from his lips. He could feel Stefan's smirk against his hip, and he slid his mouth back over to take his length into his mouth, now pumping his fingers in and out at a slow pace, making sure to run his fingers over that spot that had Soren writhing beneath him in seconds. The swordmaster made sure he was good and stretched before adding the third finger, and Soren's head hit the pillow as he gasped, not sure which direction to roll his hips; down onto the older's fingers or up into his mouth.

He didn't know that being stretched in such a way could feel so good, and he flushed when he realized how badly he wished it was something else, not just fingers. He was unable to voice his desire though, his mind so fogged by pleasure he wasn't sure it was possible for him to articulate a full sentence. Instead, he only panted and groaned, bucking up into the older's talented mouth. With a desperate cry, Soren shuddered and came, giving up on tampering the volume of his reactions.

Stefan's fingers didn't stop moving until the mage finally came down from his pleasure induced high. The green haired man let the softening organ slip from his mouth and then pressed a few kisses to the mage's thigh, then his hip, teasing the flesh with his tongue until Soren grabbed at his shoulder, pulling him up for a kiss.

Unlike the heated kisses from before, this was slower, more languid, even though the mage could feel the swordmaster's arousal practically burning his thigh.

"Want me to take care of that?" he murmured into this kiss, running his hands through his lovers spiky locks.

"Up to you. Or I could do it," Stefan said, pulling back with a grin on his face. "And you can watch."

Soren flushed. "I...um..."

"Hm, maybe later." Stefan ducked his head down to kiss him again. "I'm happy with whatever you want."

Soren reached down and gently ran his hand over the length through the thin material of the man's breeches, watching as Stefan's eyes closed and his mouth opened a little. "Can I...taste you?"

"You sure?" Stefan asked, eyes opening into slits.

In reply, the mage slid out from beneath him, rolling them over as he moved down the man's body, anxiety laced with excitement trailing down his spine. He wanted to do whatever he could to make the man feel the pleasure he so often gave out. It wasn't fair if all he ever did was take. Tentatively, he ran his tongue along the other's length through the fabric, wondering what it would taste like, if he would hate it. Even if he did...Stefan did it to him so it shouldn't be that big a deal, right?

"Hey," Stefan murmured, seeming to notice Soren's hesitation. He reached down, fingers trailing over a pale cheek. "Don't feel like you have to do it, Soren. I'm perfectly happy with what you want."

Soren bit his lip then nodded, moving back up. "I'm sorry."

Stefan only smiled and kissed him. "So if we aren't doing that..."

Soren flushed a little under Stefan's suggestive stare. "I guess you could...do the other thing."

The swordmaster laughed at Soren's timid response, but then gave him another kiss before he could think to be offended. "How about I go deal with this, and you go to sleep. It's alright."

Soren shook his head. "I want you to feel good."

Stefan leaned down, nibbling on his ear. "You know what would make me feel good? If I touched myself while you watched."

A shiver laced down his spine and he nodded. "Okay."

Confident grin on his face, Stefan leaned back and tugged his breeches down just far enough that he could pull his length free, stroking it slowly as he watched Soren. Soren squirmed under his gaze, biting his lip. Then, unable to help himself, he looked down to the man's hand, watching it move up and down. He hadn't realized just how large the swordmaster was until then, not really paying attention last time he had done the same thing, and he wondered for a moment how that was going to fit inside of him when they finally got around to well...making love.

Soren leaned forward, letting his own hand join Stefan's, then moving up to kiss him. Stefan only faltered for a moment, but then they fell into a steady rhythm, working the man slowly to his pleasure. As they kissed, Soren let his other hand roam as well, briefly tweaking one of Stefan's nipples before sliding down to run his tongue over it, heedless of the fabric between. Listening close to Stefan's soft noises of pleasure, he slid his hand down to cup his balls, rolling them experimentally, then firming his touch when Stefan encouraged the motion.

The man's once slow hand sped up as he murmured Soren's name into his ear, leaning down to nip at it, groaning. Soren pulled back and glanced down when he felt Stefan's length jerk, watching intently as he came, feeling some what  _aroused_  by what he was seeing. He was brought back to reality when Stefan captured his lips again, delving into his mouth for a good taste as he milked his length for every last drop of pleasure. Finally content, he pulled back.

"Thank you, little one." He moved down to nuzzle and kiss his neck for a moment. "Feel like you can sleep now?"

Soren nodded shyly. "Should I get something to clean you up?"

"I can take care of it," Stefan said. "You just lay down and don't fall asleep until I come back, okay?"

Soren burrowed under the covers, watching as Stefan searched through their supplies for a stray piece of cloth and wipe his shirt off, then shuck said shirt off and let it rest over his pack. Once the swordmaster was in bed beside him, he wrapped himself around the warm body, feeling as though all of his energy were drained. He fell asleep to Stefan's hands drifting listlessly over his back.

 

-.-

 

Unfortunately, the night did not slip by peacefully. Sometime in the night, Soren found himself being tossed out of bed again, pinned to the ground by Stefan's unyielding strength. He swallowed thickly, staring up at the shadowed form. He didn't have to worry though, for as quickly as Stefan's waking nightmare began, it ended, and he collapsed on top of the mage, shaking. Startled, Soren embraced him, realizing that the man was actually  _crying_.

"Stefan? Hey..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say to comfort him, not when he didn't know what the demons were that plagued his mind. "We should get up. Let me get the light, okay?"

He tugged himself out from underneath the man, waving his hand to light their lamp once more before helping the swordmaster to his feet. Stefan wouldn't look at him, but he could tell from the occasional shudder and gasp that the man was still crying. Not wanting to anger him or force him into anything, Soren merely made sure he was sitting down on the bed before wrapping his arms tight around his shoulders, kissing his neck, his cheek, and rocking gently.

If the swordmaster thought anything of his reactions, he didn't show it.

Before long, he had gone limp in Soren's embrace and the mage was able to maneuver them back underneath the covers. Convinced that Stefan was now okay, he let himself doze a little, before sleep pulled him back into its comforting embrace.


	14. Chapter 14

_Day 53. In just one day, Stefan may have managed to turn the tide of the war. He has managed to sway many laguz to my side. While I disapprove of asking the colony to help me...if Stefan thinks they want to then I guess it's alright. I'm just surprised I think. I spent my whole life being shunned by laguz and beorc alike, that seeing so many rush to my aide is a little odd. I feel like it's a rug that's going to be tugged out from beneath my feet at any moment and I'll be left floundering in the middle of Daein with armies on either side of me, bent on my destruction. It's not a thought that helps me rest easy._

_And then, there is Stefan. I don't think I have ever seen him cry, but the other night, it was like he couldn't stop. He won't tell me what's wrong, won't tell me what's triggering his flashbacks. If only I knew, I could help, but I don't want to pressure him into something he would end up hating me for._

Soren bit his lip, then shut the journal. They would be traveling again in a few more minutes. They would take one of the cities today, route it completely, and settle in until the rest of their allies arrived. Then, together, they would take the second city and press on to the keep. Chances were, the Begnion forces near the Keep would swoop down and try and lay seige. But Begnion would have no idea that a good one hundred laguz and other forces would be there in a matter of days and help take them out.

"Ready?"

Soren got to his feet at Stefan's voice, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Not quite. There's something we need to address before we go out and risk our lives."

Stefan's eyebrows knit together as he tried to figure out what Soren meant. "I guess we have time."

"It's not a  _guess._ We  _need_  to talk about this," Soren said firmly.

He hadn't quite realized how difficult standing up to Stefan would be. He had always followed Stefan's lead as far as their relationship went, and for a good reason too. It wasn't like he had much experience with relationships before this, friendship or otherwise, so naturally he had followed Stefan's lead. Backing off when Stefan didn't want to talk when he should've pushed.

"Okay. Alright. Let's talk," Stefan said.

"What am I doing? To trigger your..." Soren waved his hands in a vague attempt to articulate his thoughts. "Flashbacks. Is it my fault?"

Stefan's unease with the question was apparent as he shifted, glancing to the side briefly before attempting to meet the mage's eyes. "I don't know. It could be something you're doing but...I haven't had them in years."

"Can I ask what happened?" Soren tried to soften his tone, not quite sure that he was successful.

"A lot of things. We all had our experiences growing up as one of the Branded. None of them were good. Some people were able to soothe their demons with revenge, but I was never able to do so," Stefan said, taking a step towards the mage. "It leaves a sense that something isn't right, I suppose.

Soren stepped back, feeling a little like they were dancing "Don't give me vague blow of answers."

"I'm not ready to talk about it. Please." Stefan's tone was no longer calm, an odd note of hysteria catching his voice and tilting it up.

The mage wanted to press further; he needed answers, but if he pushed Stefan too hard before a battle, who knew what could happen? He relented, stepping forward to hug him, biting his lip when felt the swordmaster trembling under his grip.

"I'm just trying to help. You understand that, right?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, I know. But...I can't right now. I'm too-"

"Jumpy?"

"Odd thought, isn't it?" Stefan pulled back to give him a bittersweet smile. "I'm supposed to be stronger than this."

"Don't say that. You can't say holding down your emotions is a strength," Soren said, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Today's going to be difficult," Stefan said, tightening his grip on Soren's waist. "Don't leave my side."

"I won't. I have to watch your back after all," Soren said, a light note in his voice.

"Ah yes. Of course," Stefan said, pressing a kiss to the mage's forehead. "And I'll be watching your back as well.

Soren pulled back. "Let's finish packing. I'm sorry for pushing you so much."

"It's okay. Sometimes a little push helps."

 

-.-

 

Soren dismounted from his horse, sliding to the edge of the forest. No one set up camp as they stopped, only readying their weapons and making any last minute checks. The convoy would stay back in the forest while they took the city; that way if they failed, the convoy could most likely escape without any serious injuries, and if they won, they'd be able to get to the city in a short amount of time.

"I feel like this won't be as easy as it seems," said a voice beside him.

Soren would've been startled if the voice hadn't belonged to Volke. The assassin was just too good at sneaking up on people. "I never thought it was going to be easy. Tell me Volke. Why did you agree to help?"

The mage didn't look at the assassin. It wasn't like he'd be able to tell anything from his expression, what with the mask, and even without it, it'd be like looking at a statue.

"You pay good money," Volke said.

"What did Stefan promise you?" Soren asked.

"15,000."

Soren closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. "For all three of you?"

"The other two are cheaper. 10,000 each," Volke said.

"Oh. Lovely." Soren finally turned to look at the man. He hadn't changed at all. "What happens when Daein offers more money?"

"I don't switch sides like that," Volke said. "And I never do two jobs at once. My alliance is assured. The other two...I vouch for them. They will not betray you."

"That means a lot to me," Soren said. "Thank you."

The brown haired man merely shrugged, his dark gaze flicking over his shoulder into the brush behind him. "Duck."

"Wha-"

Volke shoved him to the ground and threw a knife, only to have it clang and spiral back to the ground in front of the mage. Sothe stepped out of the shadowy brush, knife in hand.

"Sothe?"

"Hello, Volke," the green haired teen said, expression set. "Soren, I need to-"

The thief's voice stopped as Volke tackled him to the ground, knife to his throat. "Sorry, but I'm not taking any chances with my benefactor. You've grown Sothe."

"It's alright, let him up," Soren said.

Volke glared up at him and Soren decided it would be best to let the assassin have his way.

"Why are you here?" Soren asked.

"Pelleas is dead," Sothe said from his position on the ground. "We have no one left to support. So we've come to you instead."

"How can we trust you?" Volke asked.

"Dammit Volke! It's me," Sothe hissed, green eyes flashing.

"I take my job very seriously."

"How many forces do you have?" Soren asked, crouching down beside him.

"Thirty five. Mostly ground units," Sothe said. "We'll fight with you. We have no choice."

"Go get your forces. If you are not here in the hour, consider any attempts at an alliance to result in failure," Soren said, standing back up and nodding at Volke.

The assassin stood up but kept a tight grip on the thief's arm. "I'll escort him out of here."

Soren nodded and headed back towards where the army was gathered, picking out Ike and heading directly for him. "Ike, I need to talk to you. Something has come up."

 

-.-

 

Sothe tried to jerk out of Volke's grip as he was shoved further into the forest, but the assassin, merely twisted his arm and slammed him into a nearby tree. The next moment his lips were covered by the man's warm ones, arms pinned above his head by one of Volke's, the other hand wrapped tightly around his bare midriff to tug him close. He gasped and shuddered in the man's grip as his mouth was thoroughly plundered, for a moment wondering how he had gone so long without the assassin's touch, how he had walked away in the first place.

"You're still my enemy right now," the man murmured against his lips, dark red eyes opening and trapping him. "Let's get this over with."

"And then we'll talk," Sothe said, though his tone was questioning.

"Yes. Then we talk."

Then his arms were jerked behind his back and he was ordered to lead the way back to his own camp.

 

-.-

 

Sothe and his forces did indeed arrive within the hour, ready to fight. Despite Volke's mistrust, Soren knew Sothe wouldn't let his forces betray him, so he set about learning their abilities and figuring out where to best place them in the incoming fight. Ike had agreed that they could trust Sothe's forces; they only wanted the best for Daein, and at this point, Soren was the best.

No one bothered asking what happened to Pelleas. It was apparent from Micaiah's eyes that it was not a story she was interested in telling.

The troops gathered together near the edge of the forest in front of Soren. The mage glanced towards the cities high walls. While Sothe had been gone, he had sent Colm to go inspect the forces inside the city, and had been pleased at the information he had received. A lot of the forces patrolled along the walls, looking for danger, and the city was completely unsuspecting. There was no hurried action to ready for a battle, and Colm had reported that the soldiers along the wall were nearly asleep. If they moved quickly, they could take down any archers lurking on the walls without any serious harm, and then move the rest of the army in once it was safe.

"Flyers, go," Soren said.

There was a flurry of wings and pegasus knights and wyvern knights alike took to the skies, Naesala rising alongside them. Soren noted with a twisted smile that their hawk allies stayed far away from the Crow King. He edged out of the forest to get a better look at the battlefield. Cries from the city arose and a rain of arrows suddenly erupted from the wall. A wyvern took a hit and fell to the ground, but his forces didn't stop their forward momentum, spearing their enemies from above as the hawks slipped down and tore those within reach to shreds.

The mage gave it another minute before waving the army forward. The drawbridge was not rising just yet, and Soren saw why as a flood of mounted knights emerged. Within another minute, the armies clashed, and the feeling of adrenaline rushed through him. He was careful to use only a little power, not wanting to chance exhausting himself before they even got inside the city. He had a feeling that the forces sent out to deal with them were only a distraction.

"Soren!"

The mage didn't look up, casting a quick Wind spell to knock down an enemy as a wyvern thudded to the ground beside him.

"They must've been hiding soldiers," Jill gasped as she slid down from her mount, spear in hand. With a twirl she stabbed it through one of the men trying to attack. "There's a flood of Begnion soldiers leaving the side and back entrances. I think they're going to try and surround us again."

"They knew we were coming," Soren said grimly.

He glanced around to see they had almost routed the soldiers that had first appeared. Without warning, he scrambled onto the knight's wyvern, peeking across the field to see that she was indeed right. Mounted knights were racing on the left and right of the city, stretching back to cut them off even as more soldiers poured over the draw bridge.

"Mages, foot soldiers, to the city!" Soren shouted, using magic to amplify his voice. "Mounted units, protect the rear!" He turned to Jill as he leapt off her beast. "Spread the winged units out. Help wherever you can. I have a feeling that while we're only getting foot soldiers from the city right now, they might try and surprise us with something else."

Jill nodded and was back up into the air in a matter of seconds. Soren jumped back into the fray, dodging the blows he could and slipping back behind the more capable soldiers to attack from afar when he needed to. Every once in awhile, a screech would rent the air and Naesala would send a torrent of wind magic down to send Begnion soldiers flying. The stench of blood began to grow thick, and it was as if there was a never ending stream of reinforcements for their enemies. Steadily, Soren and his allies were boxed in tighter and tighter until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder.

It was too much. There was only so much longer they could keep fighting without taking too many casualties, casualties they could not afford to have. Pushing his way through the tight press of bodies, Soren found Xane and gripped his arm tight.

"Loan me your strength," he whispered in the boy's ear.

Xane nodded and opened his mind. The power nearly bowled Soren over as he tapped into it and began to mold it into what he wanted. He could only pray that his friends could keep the army back long enough to let him work. He was never that great at fire magic. Wind was truly his forte, and he could work with thunder well enough, but if he could help it he never worked with the fire based magic. Especially the spell he was attempting now. Alone it was something he would never try but with Xane's help, he thought maybe he could do it, and at this point it was the only really choice he had.

This spell combined fire and earth, and the earth, unlike the wind, did not like to be moved or bent to someone's will. It was a sleeping beast that hated to be disturbed, and hated to be controlled once it was awake. Soren dove deep, finding the molten earth and fire beneath their feet, caressing it with his and Xane's combined power, forcing the lava to pulse faster and push up through any cracks he could find in the earth. He guided it carefully, feeling where the enemy forces were and carving out a trap of lava around them. It wouldn't get rid of all of them, but enough that his army could deal with the rest.

He hoped.

Content, he released the power and let nature take control. Fire and lava erupted in jets, breaking through the hard ground and spewing hot liquid everywhere. Panting, Soren whipped up a wall of wind to shield his own forces as the ground rumbled and cracked, sinking down as the lava's presence suddenly vanished, forcing the ground to collapse inward. The lava spilled into the large craters he had created, and the stink of burning flesh and metal assaulted his senses.

_Enough, enough,_  Soren murmured in his mind. He dug deep once more, nearly groaning at the effort to still the flow of lava and shove it back beneath the earth where it belonged, where it should've never been pulled from. As he suspected, the earth's natural flow of things did not appreciate him fighting back the release of pressure, but eventually, he had secured the molten power back in its place, where it would no doubt lie dormant for a very long time.

Opening his eyes, he slumped against Xane's unmoving body. He could feel the boy breathing, but he had obviously drained him thoroughly. The sound of fighting had all but stopped, and feeling safe enough, he let himself slip into a deep sleep.

 

-.-

 

"You are going to die if you keep this up."

Soren stared at the ceiling as Rhys bustled around the small room, tutting away. Xane laid in a bed on the other side of the room, still fast asleep, skin drawn and pale. He hated to think of what he looked like.

"Drink."

Rhys pressed the cup to his lips as he sat up and obeyed, choking the foul liquid down with a squint. A pastry was shoved into his hand next and he ate it gratefully, wanting to get the taste out of his mouth and throat.

"I saved the battle, so its worth it," Soren said. How was it possible for everything in his body to ache so horribly?

Rhys slammed the cup on the table and turned to face Soren, blue eyes sparking. "We have nothing to fight for if you go and get yourself killed! Stop being so...self-sacrificing!"

With a huff, the healer turned away and continued to work about the room, soaking some bandages in a pot of hot water, wiping off a needle he had used to stitch someone's wound close. "So, what's the state of things?"

"You are not to worry about that," Rhys said sternly. "Stefan and Ike are handling everything just fine." The healer approached him with a cloth in hand, pushing Soren's bangs up and away as he dabbed at a cut he hadn't realized he had until it began to sting and smart from Rhys's work. "You really outdid yourself. Though I suggest you don't ever attempt it again, even when you get back to full strength. If you manage to do so, which you won't at this rate."

"Sorry."

"What were you thinking?" Rhys muttered, grabbing a vial of some clear liquid and dumping it on the cloth, moving back to cleaning out the cut. "Calling up the earth like that. Insanity. You are insane, I tell you."

"Are you alright?" Soren asked, grabbing Rhys's frail wrist and pulling his hand away. "You're babbling a bit more than usual."

Rhys glanced away, a tight smile on his lips. "It's hard watching a patient die. Only one but...it was under my watch, my care."

"Who?" Soren demanded.

"One of the assassins," Rhys said. "He shouldn't have died, but the poison in his wound worked too fast for me to treat it properly."

"That saves us 10,000 I guess," Soren mused.

Rhys looked horrified at his words but just shook his head and went back to cleaning and dressing his wound. "That's how you are. Always numbers. Never getting attached."

"I never met him," Soren said.

"I suppose you're right. I just get close to my patients. I become responsible for them and when they die I...can't help but feel as though it is my fault." The healer settled his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry. This isn't something you want to hear and-"

"No, no. It's fine," Soren said. "You need to talk. I'll listen."

Rhys tilted his head to the side. "Not something I expected."

"I'm not that heartless," Soren said.

"No...no you're not," Rhys said, standing up and dunking the now bloody cloth in another pot of hot water and drawing out the soaked bandages from the other. "I'll tell Stefan you're awake. Try and get some sleep as soon as possible though."

"Of course."

"I mean it," Rhys called as he left the room.

It wasn't long before Stefan walked in, stepping softly so as not to disturb Xane's sleeping form. "I'd be angry at you, except that what you did probably saved us all."

Soren gave the sword master a wry smile. "Without Xane, I wouldn't have been able to do it. So, what are the numbers?"

"Ten casualties altogether, and a lot of wounded," Stefan said. "We got away alright given the circumstances. They knew we were coming, which isn't entirely surprising."

"So you don't suspect foul play?"

Stefan shook his head. "Our destination is obvious, and it only makes sense for us to attack this place. In fact, we should have suspected something from how relaxed they seemed to be. But it's over now, not anything we can worry about. Also, the first of the Kilvas and Branded troops arrived today."

"Oh?"

"They're all rather excited to see you, but I've put them off until tomorrow at least," Stefan said. "You need your sleep."

"Hold on a moment," Soren said, covering Stefan's hand with his own. "I...have a question."

A green eyebrow crooked up, a sign for him to continue.

"Am I...am I a heartless leader?"

Stefan frowned but considered the question carefully, for which Soren was grateful. If the man had immediately sprung to his defense, he would've thought the man was lying. "I wouldn't say heartless. Cautious. Careful. No desire to get close to people. That can be perceived as heartless, but at the same time, I think those fighting for you know that you aren't."

"Ike got most people on his side by...interacting with them," Soren said. "Maybe I should be more like him."

"It might help," Stefan admitted. "But there's nothing wrong with you. I promise." The sword master leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss. "Now go to sleep."

 

-.-

 

Sothe twisted the cup in his hands, watching the small bit of liquid at the bottom roll around as he avoided Volke's penetrating gaze. They were sitting in one of the rooms of the hotel Ike and Stefan had managed to move almost all of the army into, and he dreaded what Volke was going to say to him. Back during the war to return the Crimean princess to her throne, he and Volke had become lovers, but as soon as the war had ended, he had fled back to Daein.

Without telling the assassin.

"So. Mind telling me what happened to you?" Volke asked, getting up off the bed and crossing the small distance between them.

"Mind telling me what you're doing in Daein?" Sothe shot back.

"You can't talk circles around me," Volke said as his bare hand slid beneath Sothe's chin and forced him to look up. "I looked for you. For a few years I gave you your space, but when you didn't come back I had to seek you out. I'm in Daein because I was closing in on you."

"I...I don't want this," Sothe said. "I don't want you."

"I can tell your lying," Volke said, leaning in close so their lips were almost touching. The green haired thief couldn't escape that garnet gaze if he wanted to. "It's in your eyes, in your breath. In your body." His hand danced along the younger's side and Sothe's head slipped back, a soft moan

escaping his lips as Volke pressed his lips to the exposed column of his throat. "Did you miss me?"

Sothe nodded, trembling arms moving up to wrap around the assassin's neck. "Volke...I can't..."

The assassin bit harshly down on the skin he had been kissing, and the thief let out a keening cry as he arched into the man's touch. "Are you afraid?"

"You don't love me," Sothe hissed, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at Volke.

"When did I ever say that?" The words were quiet against his skin. "You shouldn't make assumptions, my little thief."

"So you do?"

"Did I say that?"

Sothe shoved the man away with a harsh kick, getting to his feet as he fixed the man with a hard gaze. "Don't play games with me! I can't...do this if you won't be honest with me."

"I am being honest," Volke said. "I didn't say I loved you. I didn't say that I didn't love you. What does that leave?"

Sothe stared at him, unable as always, to read the man's expression and tell what he was thinking. "I don't know."

"Well let me tell you. It means I don't know. I know I had to look for you. I know I enjoy your company. I don't know if that equates to love. I don't know if I can love," Volke said, taking a stalking step closer. "But I'll never know if I don't try."

"Strangely poetic for you," Sothe said tightly, backing away until he was pressed against the door.

Volke didn't stop. "What if you leave me?"

"You were the one that left me," Volke said. "I was intent on keeping you with me."

Sothe glanced away only to have Volke's hand capture his chin once more. He closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath as the assassin kissed him once more, softly. Then the door was opening and he was stumbling through it and into the hallway.

"Think about it some more, we'll talk again."

The door was shut in his face, and he was left alone.

 

-.-

 

Naesala had never been so angry as he was now. What made it worse, what made him angrier, was why he was mad in the first place. He had sworn that he was going to take Zihark down. He was going to mind fuck the swordsman so hard he would never be the same again. It was just in his nature to destroy those he wanted to mess with him and yet here he was. Not wanting to take the man down.

For some insane reason he didn't want to rip the man's throat out. In fact, he actually felt bad for what the man had gone through, felt bad that he had, in a weird way, been partially responsible. He was unable to give the man the closure he had so desperately sought. And in the end, Zihark had only wanted him to do something good for once in his life. Okay, he had done plenty of good things, but the man was practically harmless.

And dammit he liked being selfish! And now here was this nobody, getting him to willingly shoulder some of the work. Not to mention he had brought in some of his own forces to help the little brat win his war. Perhaps it was because he had seen the result of utter selfishness. Meidan had practically whored himself out to the highest bidder, betraying his own kind and his so called friends just for a little bit more money. That was something, that was a point Naesala never wanted to reach.

He knew he was selfish. But that degree would end up hurting the few he cared about and burning him at the very end.

"You started this horrid train of thought, you blasted swordsman," Naesala muttered under his breath. "I don't know if I should hate you for it or say thank you."

He pushed away from the wall, intent on finding Zihark. He would decide when he finally found the man.

Zihark finished cleaning his Killing Edge and slid it back in its sheath. His body ached as he moved, a sign that the battle that took place only hours before had taken its toll on his body. There was a crash as his door was thrown open and he whirled, slipping the blade from its sheath and pressing it to his intruder's throat, heart pounding. Naesala stood there, arms crossed, unperturbed by the sharp blade glancing against his skin, a droplet of blood slipping down.

"Can I help you?" Zihark asked.

"Yes, you can," the Crow King said, slamming the door shut. "Put the toy away."

"This toy could cut your heart out," Zihark retorted.

"Mm, idle threats." Naesala backed away and pressed the blade down. "Let's have a chat, shall we?"

"No. I'm tired and don't feel like putting up with your games," Zihark said.

Something unreadable entered Naesala's hard gaze. "Your games? Do you realize what you have done to me, you idiot human?"

"I don't know why you keep making these wild accusations," Zihark sighed, tightening his grip on the sword. "But if you want to fight it out, you are more than welcome to try."

"I would love to smash your pretty little face right in. How can you be so ignorant?" Anger rose in the dark blue depths of the Crow King's gaze and Zihark took a step back to steady his stance, waiting for the laguz to lunge.

"If you would actually explain yourself for once, I'm sure we could resolve this issue," Zihark said.

"Cutting you down would most likely get me kicked out of this little army, and endanger the relations Soren has with your country. I really do  _not_  want to do that."

"You want to know what you've done?" Naesala asked, taking a step closer.

"Yes! I've been saying that for awhile now," Zihark said with a roll of his eyes.

"You have made me..." Naesala stared down at his hands, clenching them tightly. "You have made me feel regret. You have made me  _care_  about what I am doing. I want to mess with your mind, you deserve it, making me help that little mage brat, but I can't. For some inexplainable reason, I do not want to hurt you anymore."

Zihark didn't relax his stance as he mauled over the king's words, still not quite sure what Naesala was talking about, and a tad bit disturbed if he was to be completely honest with himself. "Well, thanks for not killing me. Or hurting me. I...appreciate it. I still fail to see what's so bad about you having a conscious."

"Of course you don't understand," Naesala spat. "You are the most Goddess damned confusing beorc I have ever had the displeasure of being with."

"Look, Naesala, I don't get where you're coming from, but I'm not sorry if I accidentally helped you become a better person," Zihark said, his voice earnest, sincere.

"I'm a crow! I'm supposed to look only out for my own desires," he said, finally looking up into Zihark's eyes. "You have made me go against my very nature."

"I haven't made you do anything," Zihark said. "You made the choice not to...harm me."

"This is in no way my fault," Naesala said.

"While you may be becoming a better person, I think it'd be best if you start taking some ownership for your actions. That's bound to help."

"One of these days I will punch you," Naesala said. "Now, though, I'm leaving. You make me think too much."

The crow stormed out without another word.

"I'm...sorry?"


	15. Chapter 15

_Dear Journal,_

_Day 56. The Branded colony has finally arrived with the Kilvas troops and Tibarn. We are to take the next city today, but I've been ordered to rest and not partake in today's battle. After some arguing, I was able to convince Rhys that I would not, under any circumstances, use too much of my energy. Xane wasn't allowed out onto the battlefield at all, because I drained him so much. I feel bad for what I did, but when I talked to Xane about it, we decided the end result was really for the best.  
_

"Time to go," Stefan said, tapping on the mage's shoulder.

Soren folded the journal closed and slipped it into the folds of his cloak, pausing a moment at the desk. He was so close to fulfilling the goal he had started this whole journey for. Each battle, it seemed the stakes were getting higher and higher, just as they always did. The climax was soon. Soon, he would find himself within the Daein Keep once more, only this time, it would be to take the throne for himself, something he had never imagined himself doing.

"Soren?" Stefan asked. He wrapped his arm around the mage's waist and placed a delicate kiss on his head. "Are you alright? If you're too tired, you can stay behind."

Soren shook his head and turned into the man's embrace. "I'll be just fine. Just thinking about how close to the end we are." Frowning, he looked up at the sword master. "And how we still need to talk."

Stefan chuckled and kissed his Brand before releasing him. "Let's go."

 

-.-

 

The concentration of these forces different then the battle before, a mix of Begnion and Daein troops, pouring out from all sides of the city as soon as they approached. Ike, Soren, Naesala, and Tibarn each commanded their own forces, and Zihark found himself fighting under Naesala's.

He thought that perhaps it was some form of the Crow trying to torment him, but so far, Naesala had done nothing but let him do as he will, fighting without restraint. He couldn't help but think that the Crow had some ulterior motive, especially given the conversation they had shared the night before. It was also a surprise that Naesala even tolerated commanding a force of beorc and his own laguz troops. Whatever Soren had offered him for his help must have been very expensive, and no doubt shiny.

"Haiiii!"

Zihark felt wind tear through his hair as a javelin lanced over his shoulder, burying itself in the eye of the paladin that had been bearing down on him. Everyone he had fought with in the past knew how bad he was fighting paladins, and when he turned he saw Brom's cheerful grin under the helm of a black general's mask.

"Brom?"

"No time to talk now Zihark! I brought my daughter along, perhaps we can arrange a marriage!" Brom shouted as he lumbered past, brandishing his large sword.

Zihark shook his head and turned back to the battle, just managing to dodge the throne knife of an assassin. Startled he jerked back, eyes darting to the assassin's face. He was a sword master, that much was true, but assassins were not units to be taken lightly, especially when they held such dangerous weapons in their hands. The assassin lunged and he parried the blow only to have the attacker's wrist flick, delivering a knife to his side only to be ripped back out again. Stumbling, he was unable to defend himself as another knife slipped up and in between his ribs, piercing the light chain mail and driving deep.

"W-what?" He fell to his knees, sword clattering to the ground as he went to grab the handle of the knife lodged deep in his chest.

Every breath was one of driving pain, lungs aching horrifically.  _A lung must be pierced. I...do I take it out or..._ His vision spun as he crumpled on his side, watching with a blurred gaze as the assassin began to walk away, as if the raging battle did nothing at all to even faze him. As if he weren't even concerned by the carnage around him.

A cry, high and shrill, echoed and made his vision dance, and then the assassin was on the ground, chest and stomach torn open by the bloody, silver claws of a large crow. The ring around its neck unmistakably marked it as Naesala. Unable to stay awake any longer, Zihark allowed himself to slip away.

 

-.-

 

Soren sent a weak wind spell to knock his enemy back, letting Mist finish him off with her sword. He had practically glued himself to the Valkyrie's side so he would have someone to drain if it became absolutely necessary, and someone to defend him when he was unable to finish off an enemy himself.

Riding together as they were he was able to get a good look at the battle field, commanding his forces where he thought was needed. The combination of Begnion and Daein forces would've wiped them out, but the addition of the Branded and laguz forces had changed the tide in their favor. Mist's horse reared and he clutched the woman's middle to keep himself from falling as she beheaded a man with such grace the fighter probably hadn't even felt it.

In that brief moment, he spotted Naesala fleeing the battlefield, his large body unmistakable even at this distance.

"That two-faced bastard," Soren spat.

Once Mist's horse had put itself back on the ground, he leapt off. "Soren?"

"Find Titania to go take command of Naesala's forces. He's up and left and someone's got to keep control," Soren ordered.

"Ike told me not to leave you," Mist said as her horse pranced.

"I'm ordering you to go. I'll be fine," he said.

With a brisk nod, Mist galloped off, leaving Soren to defend himself. He was near the back, taking out any fighters that managed to break through the forces he had under his command, but before long he found himself panting and weak in the knees. As if sensing his predicament, Mina popped up beside him, knife in hand as she whipped up a lightning spell with her other hand.

"M-Mina?"

"Looks like you could use some help," she said.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Ike's group?" he asked, stunned as she brought down a high level lightning spell, then directing it to carve through the ground until it had almost reached the wall of the city, frying any enemies in her path.

"Stefan wanted me to come check up on you. Good thing-" She lunged forward, hurling her knife to catch a soldier in the neck before he could finishing rushing them. "-too. I mean, you look like you're going to pass out."

She grabbed his arm and gave him a boost of energy so he could stand easier. "Stay close to me, and use my energy when you need it. Trust me, I've got a lot to spare. I've been storing up for when you'd finally bother to ask for our help." She gave him a sly wink and Soren wondered why he hadn't bothered to call them sooner.

He was careful not to drain too much, taking only what he needed to take out his enemies, mostly keeping an eye out for anymore trouble. They had almost reached the main gate, and he had a feeling that the battle would only get tougher when they got inside. He sent a flare of fire magic into the air, the signal for Jill or Haar to come to his side as soon as possible.

Before long, Haar's lumbering wyvern had settled in beside him, and he leaned over the large beast's neck to look at him with one sleepy eye. How the man managed to stay so nonchalant while fighting was a wonder. "Yes?"

"I need you to make a few passes over the city, let me know how many troops are still waiting for us inside," Soren said.

He nodded and took to the sky again, leaving Soren to continue the press towards the gate.

 

-.-

 

Haar sent his wyvern over the large city, keeping a careful eye out for archers. The city seemed mostly calm from within, the windows shuttered and the city streets empty. But that just made it all the more suspicious.

A glint of light caught his eye, and then shattering pain in his shoulder. His wyvern cried out and they spun to the ground.

 

-.-

 

It was nearly a half hour since Haar had disappeared, and Soren stood at the head of his troops with Ike and Tibarn, staring into the empty city. The enemy forces had been captured or killed, and now nothing stood between them and the silent city.

"He isn't back yet, is he?" Jill asked, moving to stand beside them. "I should-"

"No one's going anywhere," Soren murmured. "I do not like this at all."

"Well there's only one way to find out if there's anything waiting for us in there," Tibarn said, setting his shoulders. "We go in and deal with whatever happens."

"I really don't see an alternative route," Ike agreed. "I don't want to send anyone else up to scout only to have them get killed because they were traveling alone."

"Then let's go," Soren said.

Ike pushed him back. "Stay behind me."

Soren knew better than to fight back, especially in his condition, so instead he just shadowed the large general, keeping his senses sharp.

"Travel in groups of five," Ike called back to the troops. "Spread out and search the city. Do not enter any houses."

The troops split up, melting into the alleyways and multiple streets to pour over the large city. Soren found himself with Ike, Stefan, Titania, and Mist, padding along softly, eyes scanning every shadow and whistle of music. Soren hissed a silent warning as the air danced before him, shimmering with an odd light directly in front of them.

He tilted his head to the side and suddenly an eruption of fire flashed before their eyes. Reacting instead of thinking, they all lunged away, hitting the ground and rolling across the hard stone as the ground rocked. Stunned, Soren stared at the smoldering large iron ball in the ground, the stone tiles crushed. His gaze turned back to where it had come from, and he saw a long iron cylinder with a hole at the end. Three soldiers stood at its farthest end, and without thinking Soren got to his feet, racing towards them as they rose a torch into the air, lowering it to the weapon

"Ha!"

Wind rushed past him and blew back the soldiers, sending the torch to the ground. Not slowing at all, Soren set each soldier alight, hand slapping against the hot iron weapon to steady himself. He stared at the weapon in awe, unsure of what he was staring at or how it worked. Magic had been used to disguise it until the last possible second, that much was obvious.

"Soren!" Stefan yelled, running up beside him and pulling him close, sword out as he glanced around.

Ike and Titania were the next to arrive, weapons brandished as if they could protect them. Soren swallowed thickly as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

"Titania...these things...who knows how many they have. You have to warn the others," Soren gasped out, vision spinning.

"Stay with me," Stefan murmured into his ear.

Mist moved forward, pumping him full of energy once more. "What do we do now?"

"Invisible enemies? I have no idea," Soren said.

"Move with caution and take them out when we find them. We aren't staying here, that's for sure," Ike said quietly. "We'll leave as soon as we get all the troops back together. We can't bother capturing this city when we're dealing with things like this."

Soren nodded his agreement, then glanced around the city.  _How are we getting out of this death trap?_

 

-.-

 

Jill dismounted her wyvern, choking back tears as she raced towards Haar's crumpled form, ignoring the shouts of warning from those she was traveling with. Her legs gave out as she knelt beside them, tears running hot against her will down her cheeks. His wyvern did not stir, not a breath of life in him. His leg was blasted off, a bloody stump, and one side of his scaly black chest was blasted in.

Finally, she turned her gaze to Haar. His armor on his left shoulder was shattered and dented, his arm obviously dislocated and who knew what else as it hung like a rag by his side. His lower half was beneath that of his wyvern, and she knew she had to drag him out if there was to be any hope saving him. Sothe and Brom were by her side a moment later, and together they pulled the man out from beneath his dead mount. The man coughed, spasming in their grip as he woke, his single eye crazed.

"Get this armor off of him," Brom said. "And put something in his mouth for him to bite on."

Jill obeyed, trying to wipe her tears away as she ripped off part of her tunic, crumpling it up and shoving it in the man's mouth as Brom and Sothe worked at the armor. She wiped away Haar's own tears at the pain, not bothering to say anything, unable to think of anything to say. Her hand slid into his as Brom began to prepare to put his arm back into it's socket, and then with a muffled shout, Haar clamped down on her hand.

Panting, he spat the cloth out. "I...my...my arm is broken..."

"We can tell," Brom said.

"Gungir...alive?" he asked.

Jill shook her head, then fell on his chest as her own sobs broke free. "I thought you were dead!"

She was briefly aware of Sothe and Brom stepping away as Haar patted her back with his good arm. "I'm alright. I'm right here Jilly Bean."

She sniffed and pulled away. "You idiot."

He smiled up at her. "I want to take a nap, Jilly Bean."

"Don't you dare," she said. "You might have a concussion or something."

"Don't worry about me," he said.

"Goddess, of course I'm going to worry about you! You're all I have left! Don't you understand that!" Jill fought the urge to shake the foolish man to his senses, not wanting to cause him anymore harm.

"Jill-"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" She hit his chest feebly, trying to convey what she was feeling, while still unsure of what she was feeling. "You don't understand! I can't live without you and you go off and almost get yourself killed and just leave me alone to think you're dead and gone and you don't even know what that does to me because you're always sleeping and-"

Haar grabbed her arm and tugged her down, resting a small kiss on her forehead. "I understand quite perfectly Jilly Bean. I feel the same way."

Shocked into silence by the rare display of affection, she sat back on her heels. "Oh."

"Jill, we need to go," Sothe interrupted. "Brom, can you get a splint for him?"

"Almost done," Brom called from a little further back.

Jill watched silently as Brom did what he could for the rest of Haar's injuries, then helped the man to his feet. He stared at Gungir's body, the dancing light she had seen in his eyes just moment ago fading away. She moved forward, wrapping her arm around his waist, fingers twining with the limp ones of his injured arm as he leaned on her.

"Bye, old friend. See you in the next life."

 

-.-

 

Zihark took a shaky breath, opening his eyes. His lung felt like it was on fire still, but he didn't feel like he was dying anymore, which was certainly reassuring. He started to push himself up but stopped when pain radiated out from his lung, triggering a cough. When he pulled his arm away, his sleeve was splattered with blood. "Goddess."

"I did what I could. You'll need a healer soon, especially if you want to fight when we get to Daein's Keep. For now, I suggest you stop moving."

_I swear that's Naesala but that doesn't make any sense,_  Zihark thought, trying to get his eyes to refocus.

Naesala leaned against the wall, his face turned to look out the window.

"Is the...battle over?" Zihark managed to wheeze, head spinning at the effort.

"...No. I don't know."

Zihark shifted. "What?"

Naesala paced away from the door, moving to the small window and fiddling with the latch. His inky black wings looked exceptionally large in the small space, and they fluttered weakly. By far, this was the most disgruntled he had ever seen Naesala. Angry, he was used to. This odd timid, beaten puppy demeanor was throwing him off.

"When you went down, I grabbed you and took you back. I knew you would die if you stayed there much longer, and the healers were preoccupied."

"You  _deserted?_ "

"Accidentally. You have a tendency to get rid of all rational thought." Naesala clenched his fists tight, rapping them against the windowsill from what Zihark could only guess was distress.

"Don't...try...and blame me...again."

"But it's in my nature to just pass my faults off on to others," Naesala said.

"Why can't...I get rid of...that?"

"Hm?" The King turned, his lips drawn in a strange mixture of a scowl and a smirk. "Ah, why do you destroy my common sense but leave behind my less desirable traits? That's a question I'd love to answer, but I can't as I have no such answer."

"Lovely."

"I want to kill you," Naesala said bluntly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yet...here I am." Zihark gave a wheezing laugh that resulted in another cough that shook his whole frame, blood spattering across the sheets. "Somehow."

"You'd be dead if it weren't for me. Why did I bother saving you?" The words were spat like a curse.

"I'd love to...answer but I...can't as...I have no such answer."

The weird expression turned into an ugly sneer as Naesala approached his side, all deadly grace that forced Zihark to realize what a vulnerable state he was in. "I know this is funny to you, but try and wrap your tiny human brain around my dilemma."

"You're the one with...the most experience. You're older. Why ask...me?"

Talking was growing increasingly painful, and Zihark wished he could just leave the conversation for another day, yet he still pursued it. He wanted to know why Naesala pushed himself to hate him instead of just accepting the fact that actually not harming someone wasn't so bad.

"Because you're the confusing one," the King finally said.

" _Me_? I haven't done...anything."

Naesala gave a frustrated noise and stormed out, leaving Zihark alone and in pain, to drift off into fitful sleep.

 

-.-

 

Volke took a deep breath in through his nose, staring at the shimmering air. He was standing down the street, and as soon as he had turned down the street he had seen the odd wavy air and had ducked back behind a building. Most magical works such as this just moved the air too quick for the mortal eye to see what lay beyond it, so he figured all he would have to do is travel just as fast as the air and he'd see his goal.

Good thing speed was his forte.

He grabbed his knife and flew forward, crossing the space in a blurred motion. For a moment, he could see three soldiers standing behind some odd machine, and that was all it took for him to bury his knives in their throats. He skidded to a halt beside the machine, taking in the large iron balls lying in a pile beside it. He couldn't think of how to disable it, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to touch it.

"Volke!"

The assassin turned to see Sothe jogging towards him. Behind, Brom and Jill cradled Haar's limping body at a slower pace, with Jill's wyvern walking beside them. He would give it another fifteen seconds before they were within earshot.

"It is good to see you are safe," he murmured, moving close to the young thief.

Sothe's only indication that he had heard was a slight flush. "What's that?"

"I'm not sure, and I'd rather not touch it if we can get away with it," Volke said, stepping back as the other three neared. "We should find the others as soon as possible. Keep your eyes out for some shimmering air."

"That must be what took Haar out," Brom said, poking the thing with his spear.

Volke didn't bother to hide the disgruntled sigh at the soldier's actions, instead turning back to the front. He preferred to work alone, but if his little thief was here, it wasn't so bad. Just as long as the damn soldier didn't start poking things again. Splitting up on either side of the street, Sothe and Volke checked down alleyways and further along the street, making sure there was nothing to endanger Haar's already fairly mangled body. They reached the gates, and seeing the forces Soren had left behind, he could hear Jill give a sigh of relief. One of the healers moved forward immediately as Jill lowered the man to the grass and set to work healing the wyvern lord.

"Sothe, you and I should go back in and clear out as many of those weapons as we can. I don't know if the others have encountered them yet, but let's try and limit the casualties as much as possible," Volke said.

"I didn't know you cared so much about them," Sothe said quietly as they walked away.

"I get paid to care. Quite a heavy amount to," Volke murmured.

"So if there was no money, you wouldn't bother to fight and try and put someone who cares back on Daein's throne?" Sothe asked.

"I see what you're trying to do here, but I'm asking you to walk away from this conversation before you regret it," Volke said lowly. "I don't think you'll like the answer."

"That was answer enough," Sothe said.

A moment later, the little thief was gone down and alleyway. Volke shook his head and began his trek through the city. There were not as many of the strange weapons as he had thought, and before long he had reached the other side of the city, only having happened across one more. He had passed numerous parties of troops though, and there didn't seem to be any casualties as far as he could see.

Sothe was understandably angry with him, he knew that. But he couldn't pretend to care for Daein's political affairs; they simply did not matter to them. He wanted his thief to be happy, that much was simple, but besides that, he had no personal investment in seeing that Daein got a fair and righteous King. In his opinion, Soren was a bit of a snot, and if the mage had asked him for help, he would've passed. But no, it was Stefan that had made the offer, and he had quite the respect for such a powerful swordsman.

Then again, Sothe might've mistaken his words for thinking he didn't care for him. That was something he would have to clarify, if the green-haired thief would bother to speak with him for the rest of the night. He could be a tad temperamental when he wanted to be, and sometimes Volke wondered why he had never really gotten angry with them. Such people usually had him knocking them flat and walking away, but something about Sothe made him just want to wipe away all his doubts and do whatever was in his power to make him happy.

Such thoughts were a weakness though, and he'd have to keep a tight hold on them.

 

-.-

 

Soren paced back and forth in front of the large weapon some of the soldiers had managed to haul back to the previous city they had conquered. They had placed it in the conference room in one of the local hotels, and he had gathered up some of the fighters he trusted most to come help decide what to do with it. Tibarn and the other laguz would have no part of it, saying beorc creations were for the beorcs to worry over.

"So what now?" Ike asked, glancing around.

"Figure out how to destroy it," Volke said from the far corner of the room. "No sense in replicating something that can't be moved efficiently."

"It might be a good idea to figure out how it works," Titania said, and a few others nodded in agreement. "Then we can figure out how to counter it."

"I don't think there's a shield strong enough to counter that," Mist spoke up. "After seeing Haar and his wyvern..."

"Reinforce the armor with magic," Mina said. "It might weaken the blow so at least people aren't dying. From what Haar said, the blow must've just glanced off his shoulder, and look at what it did. A little reinforcement could go a long way."

"That could work. It's the best we can do in any case. I don't want to do any tests on the weapon until we're in a less dangerous area with more time," Soren broke in. "We'll worry about it later, after the war. For now, wheel it outside, somewhere secluded, and figure out how to destroy it.

"And you get some rest," Mist said with a stern glare.

"Tomorrow we start with preparations for taking Daein's Keep," Soren continued. "Be ready to work."

"We always are," Ike said.

Soren and Stefan waited until the weapon was cleared from their makeshift meeting room before heading up to the room they shared. By the time they reached the door, the mage was leaning heavily against his companion, eyes drooping. They were at the last flight of stairs when Stefan swooped him up unexpectedly and carried him the rest of the way, dumping him on the bed before he could even protest. He didn't bother fighting as the man stripped him of his shoes and outer robes, folding them neatly before taking care of his own clothing. When he finally came to bed, Soren curled into his warm side, struggling to keep his eyes open as the swordmaster trailed his fingers up and down his back.

"We should probably talk," Soren murmured into his chest.

"Yes. We should."

Despite his agreement, Stefan didn't speak, instead readjusting himself so that he was pillowing his head with his arm, still keeping the mage tucked close. For a few minutes, nothing was said, and even when the sword master began to speak, Soren kept his eyes closed, not daring to move for fear that his lover would cease speaking.

"When I was five, my parents learned I was Branded. They thought perhaps I was something else, a Spirit Charmer, but a mage visited our village and quickly corrected them of their illusion," Stefan began.

 

-.-

 

_The mage backed away with a look of scorn on his face, upper lip curling. "I came all the way out here because I was told I could find a Spirit Charmer, and this is what you present me with?"_

_His lip split at the stinging slap that was dealt to his face, and his small knees hit the hard packed ground, fingers digging into the dirt as fat tears splashed down. He had never seen a man so angry and upset, and his mother and father were looking at him with looks of horror and confusion. Struggling back up onto his feet, he looked up at them._

_"Mommy? What's wrong?"_

_"Oh baby, I..." His mother turned into his father's strong grasp and began to weep uncontrollably. The rage he saw burning in his father's eyes confused him, and he took a tentative step forward only to have the mage shove him back down._

_"Stay away from them, boy. You disgrace us all," he hissed, bringing his face close._

_"Melanie, we have to kill it," he heard his father say, his voice soft and soothing despite his expression._

_"No!" The woman shoved him away, long green hair tossing in the wind. "I won't let you."_

_Stefan moved forward, his mind focused only on getting to his mother. She would protect him. She loved him. Those he loved would always protect him. Always. Her arms scooped him up and she began to run, her hand pressing his face over her shoulder. Through the strands of forest green, he could see the mage and his father pursing, expressions twisted with rage. He tried to shout a warning to his mother as the mage raised his hand, light twirling at the end of his gnarled fingertips, but his voice failed him._

_The next moment, he was tumbling across the ground, his mother's still body sprawled over his tiny form. Fear forced him to act, and he pushed himself away, breaking into a stumbling run. As he ran, his mind numbed over, narrowing so his only focus was getting away, getting away and hiding. The shadowed trees swallowed his small form up, and before long, the sounds of pursuit died away._

 

-.-

 

"For a few days I wandered, but we had lived in a small village outside one of Begnion's biggest cities, so when I wandered in, covered in dirt and grime, with my mark displayed for all to see, I was quickly snatched up into the slave trade. Laguz slaves were treated bad, but I was worse off, even as a child. The Laguz hated me, wouldn't acknowledge me or help me, would never split food with me."

 

-.-

 

_Stefan reached down to pick at something nonexistent on the floor right as a Laguz, tiger, rounded the corner of the table. The large form went sprawling as he tripped over the younger, tray of meager food clattering to the ground. Moving swiftly, he snatched up a piece of bread and shoved it down the back of his shirt. The tiger let out a growl and snatched at his leg, lifting him up and shaking him to see if he had stolen anything._

_But Stefan had learned from his past experiences, and had wedged the thin slice of bread into the waistline of his trousers so that they wouldn't fall out. Discontent that he had no reason to punish the younger further, the tiger delivered a rough blow to his stomach and dropped him. Stefan scampered out of the small mess hall for the slaves, pretending not to notice the knife wedged in the door as he flew through it.  
_

 

-.-

 

"I got by as best I could. More than once I ran away, especially as I got older. I never succeeded, and got my fair share of beatings as a result. It was common place though; nearly everyone had tried to escape at least once. When I finally did escape, I was in my mid twenties, so I still looked to be about fifteen. I learned to cover my brands once I had escaped, never going barefoot near strangers, and always wearing a headband."

"You didn't wear one when we met," Soren murmured, shifting up to run his finger tips over the Brand beneath the light green hair.

"I was a bit more paranoid back then," Stefan said with a smirk. "I fell in with a band of mercenaries and began to learn the sword that way. They had a powerful swordmaster with them, and he was there leader. It angered people that he was helping a runt like myself with swordplay. I was not very good when I first started out, but I had a goal and that was what kept me going."

 

-.-

 

_Stefan inhaled slowly through his nose, feeling every muscle move and relax, feeling how they connected and flowed together. Then he turned, backing up a few feet and staring at the door the separated him from his prey. He knew his strength by now; an ever growing thing that seemed to the thrive the more he trained, and he knew with one good kick, he would be rid of the pesky obstacle._

_With a leap, he smashed his foot into the door, sending it crashing to the floor, hinges snapping. A chair was scraped back and the old man stood, a wind spell lashing out and slicing open his flesh. Stefan gritted his teeth against the pain and continued his forward momentum, pouncing to close the gap and knocking the man to the ground. Dazed eyes stared up at him as he pinned the mage's wrists down, his own face twisted in a snarl. For a moment, his prey struggled, then lay still, eyes widening._

_"You..."  
_

_"You think I'll let you get away with it? With what you've done?" Stefan hissed, leaning in close. "I've remembered you. After all these years, I still remember the_ scorn _in your eyes when you told my parents what I was. The hate as you struck my mother down. You...ruined me." The swordsman threw himself off with a barely suppressed cry of rage. "Or did you think I had forgotten?"_

_"I-"_

_"I don't care what you have to say," Stefan continued, drawing his sword and pressing it to the man's throat. "I have more things to take care of. You were just the beginning."  
_

_"Were?"  
_

_Before the man could cast another spell, Stefan rammed the sword home. Something unhinged with him, a carefully guarded lock snapping and falling to the ground. He threw himself out of the house and began to run. His path was relentless. He stopped only when his body grew too tired to continue, and even then he only ate and slept enough to keep moving. The distance he had to cover was long, but he knew that once he eliminated the last part of his past, he was free.  
_

_He had to be.  
_

_When he was growing up, he had remembered how he would often ask his mother where his father was. She always assured him that he was just on a trip, fighting with the army, and that he'd be home soon to take him out into the woods to camp. He always polished his father's prized sword, the Vague Katti, when he was away, under his mother's watchful eye of course. When he came home, he would always praise Stefan, saying the care and attention he gave the sword was admirable, and that he'd make a great warrior one day, mage or otherwise.  
_

_At that point, they had still thought he was to be a powerful mage by the mark on his forehead.  
_

_Those memories had allowed Stefan to piece together the steps necessary to exact his revenge. His father was a swordsman, swift and deadly, and if he were to stand a chance even after all these years, he would have to be just as strong. That was what drove him to survive, what drove him to keep running away even as he was dragged back by the drooling hunting dogs, what drove him to learn the way of the sword relentlessly.  
_

_When his eyes lit on the old hut he had once called home, the anger that had begun to die on his journey reignited. His grip on his sword tightened as he strode across the ground, not bothering to kick the door down. He opened it up, slamming the heavy wood against the wall.  
_

_His father had aged, that much was apparent, but when he stood, Stefan could see the tight cords of muscles rippling. It was just as he suspected. The man would not go down without a fight.  
_

_"You're still alive. Why am I not surprised?" The man turned his back after only a quick glance, crossing the small kitchen area to grab the sword Stefan had so diligently worked over off its rack. "Here to get your revenge,_ Monster? _"_

_"I'm not the Monster. I wouldn't let a stranger kill my wife and my son," Stefan said.  
_

_The man's eyes were the color of coal as he pushed past Stefan, walking with a loping gait towards the woods. Stefan followed, every muscle tense as he waited for the man to whirl on him without warning. As soon as they entered a clearing, he spun.  
_

_Stefan met the blade easily, twisting to dodge another and twirling back to stab. He caught the side of his father's side, grinning as the fear entered his large eyes for the first time. Blood lust made his veins sing as they danced around each other, and he knew deep down how the dance would end. Yet he drew it out, watching the old man's limbs grow weak, watching his arms begin to tremble under the weight of the blade. It was as if every passing moment aged his father another decade, and when he finally collapsed under the strain, Stefan threw his head back and laughed.  
_

_He kicked the man down, knocking his sword away. Crouching over the man's torso, he spit in his face.  
_

_"Every day, I thought about this moment," Stefan said. "You're too proud to beg for forgiveness, but let me tell you something. You call me scum, dirt, thought I should be killed for being the sinful result of an equally sinful relationship. Yet who comes out on top? It is not just age. No. I am a superior being. I am blessed. I am_ better _than you. Always was. Always will be."_

_"When you die...the Goddess will reject you. She does not love you. She will burn your body and scatter your ashes to the deepest pits of Hell."  
_

_Stefan only laughed. "I'm sure she has a special spot. Just for you."  
_

_He did not use his sword to deal the last blow. No. He wrapped his hands around his father's neck and drained him of every last breath until he was still and cold beneath him. Then, laughing and crying, he picked up the Vague Katti and left the wood for another lifetime.  
_

 

-.-

 

Soren ran his fingers up and down Stefan's chest, feeling the thrumming of his heart beneath his finger tips. The Stefan the swordmaster had described was not someone he knew.

"I know you think of me differently now. I...am capable of destroying those I had once admired and loved. I am unable to protect those I do love. I...I think that's what triggered my flashback. I love you so much...and I can't protect you."

"Stefan...you were a child," Soren murmured. "You couldn't have protected your mother. You're stronger now, and I won't let anyone take me from you. I...won't let you walk this world alone." The mage pushed himself up to stare down at the swordmaster, straddling his chest. He reached out and traced the other's cheekbones and his jaw line, then trailing down to rest over his heart. "I love you."

Stefan wrapped his arms tight around him, drawing him close. "I'm a monster. You can't love a monster."

"Never a monster. I love you." Soren kissed his jaw, then his cheek. "I love you. I love you." Both eyelids. "I love you." His nose. "I love you." Once on his mouth. Now that he could say it, now that he felt it, now that he knew all of the man's shortcomings and was still not afraid, he knew he would never stop loving Stefan. "I love you."

"Goddess, I don't deserve you," Stefan breathed against his lips, fingers threading through his hair. "You...you are so perfect."

"We all have our flaws," Soren said, drawing one of his hands back down and kissing the calloused fingertips. "And even with them, I know I love you. You are my everything."

Stefan smiled and kissed him again, a soft loving kiss. Soren sighed contentedly and rolled off of him so that he could snuggle close.

"Will you sleep easier tonight?" the mage asked.

"With you by my side...and knowing you won't leave me even after all of this...yes, I think I will," Stefan said. "I love you, Soren."

"And I, you."

**  
**

**  
**


	16. Chapter 16

_Dear Journal,_

_Day 57. Tomorrow we take Daein's Keep. It is hard to think that my journey is almost at its end. It is even harder to think that in only 57 days I have had my entire life reconstructed. To think that 57 days ago, I only loved Ike, and was making the decision to follow Stefan into a desert to live out the rest of my days. And now, I am here, working alongside Laguz, Branded, and Beorc. And soon I will be a King. Yesterday's battle was disastrous. Naesala left not even an hour in, though I later found out he was saving Zihark's life in the process. I still can't allow such impulsive moves to be made. Not to mention the odd weapons that blasted a hole through a wyvern. I am not sure how to combat such things without sacrificing my own men._

Soren massaged his temples, frowning at the map. He was glad he had bothered to make one for Daein's Keep last time they had fought there. Ike leaned over his shoulder and marked an x on one of the bridges.

"If they don't put one of those beasts of a weapon there, they aren't thinking right," Ike said.

It was only the two of them, though Titania and Stefan were to arrive wsoon. For now, it was like they were back in the Crimean War, working late as they tried to predict the moves their enemies would make. He was struck by the idea of how he had most likely sat in this spot with Ike those few years ago, planning to take over the same Keep.

Only now, Soren was being aided by Ike, instead of vice versa.

"This is the end, isn't it?" Soren asked, pushing his chair back. "Tomorrow, we live or we die. I..."

"You can't run away anymore," Ike said quietly. "You ran away from me, but you can't run away from this. You are the King. If you run away, you'll only be hunted. I should've hunted."

Soren looked up at the general. "Ike, I love Stefan now. I'm sorry-"

Ike smiled and ruffled his bangs, much to Soren's displeasure. "I know. I want to apologize for pursing you, and for trying to control you. You are your own person, and I seem to have forgotten that.

Soren stood and embraced the blue haired knight, his best and only friend for years. "Even now, or rather, especially now, you are my closest friend and I value your input. I will probably turn to you for help as long as...as you can help me."

Ike stiffened in his grip and pulled back, hands nearly bruising in their grip on his shoulders. "Is that what you were afraid of? I would die before you would?"

Soren frowned. "I dread the day I have to live without you, but it's unavoidable. I could never grow old with you. Stefan and I...share a lot. Our blood is the same, and we deal with the same issues. You and I could never share that."

"I understand. Really, and I'm not trying to convince you that Stefan isn't the right one. I...I can see that he is." Ike stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know I'm no good at this sort of thing."

Soren shrugged, then nodded. "But neither am I."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is you're the most important person to me and I don't want to lose your friendship over something we fought about weeks ago."

"You're talking like you're already dead," Soren murmured.

"Battles are always a gamble," Ike said. "You know that."

"Swear to me you'll come out alive." The mage refused to let their eyes break the connection. The fear that he would have to continue on without Ike after finally solving their problems made his heart seize. The way the other was talking didn't help his paranoia.

"I promise." The general pushed Soren back into his chic, flashing him a reassuring smile. "Stop worrying."

"I'm the tactician. It's my job to worry," Soren said, crooking an eyebrow up.

"Soren!"

The mage turned to see Rhys in the entryway, face flushed from running. "Zihark's lung collapsed again. We need your help."

"Of course. Right away."

Soren didn't spare a glance to Ike as he rushed after the healer. The speedy recovery he and Mina had pushed onto Zihark that morning had some drawbacks, one of them being that for the next few hours, the man's lung would continue to collapse in on itself, unable to handle all the magic for a full healing in one sitting. Which meant they would have to periodically pump the man full of healing magic to keep his lung stable until the more powerful magic finished the harder work of a long term fix.

When they arrived at the tent, Mina was holding the sword fighter's head in her lap, a soft purple glow radiating from her hands.

"I'm going to need more power," she mumbled. "Soren, you'll be our channel. Just direct it towards his lung, and Rhys and I will do the rest. Rhys, give me your hand."

Soren knelt by the man's convulsing form, opening himself up to Mina and Rhys's combined magic. The man's body was a bundle of twisted and chaotic energy, but Soren waded through it to its center, funneling the magic in to smooth out the knots. His job was easy, especially since Mina and Rhys didn't want to drain him once more right before the battle that would decide all of their fates. Rhys and Mina worked through him, drawing on the magic they had stored up within him, the magic that couldn't be contained in Zihark's body.

About an hour later, the swordmaster was stable and awake, and looking much better since the last time his lung had collapsed. "Can I fight?"

"How are you even asking that?"

Soren jolted at the angry voice, turning to see Naesala standing by the entryway of the tent. "Naesala?"

"His lung collapsed three times in four hours. He can't possibly be able to fight. I'm not dragging him out when he falls over again."

"I didn't ask you to," Zihark said.

"He should be fine," Mina interrupted. "After this much magic and work, I can't imagine his lung will collapse again. Of course we'll be monitoring him until the battle, and if there is proof in your favor, Naesala, he will stay behind."

"I'm going to fight regardless," Zihark said, pushing himself up. "This is my homeland."

Mina smiled. "I understand, but you won't be fighting if you can't move. Now relax so you can have the strength to be useful."

Soren stood, ignoring the protest in his joints. "Naesala, we need to talk. Now."

"You do not-"

"Swallow your pride," Zihark said from his cot. "You won't have to listen to him after tomorrow."

Naesala's eyes flashed but he followed the mage out anyways. Soren walked down between the rows of tents that divided the camp, trying to think of what to say without angering the King. In the end, he decided that trying to baby the laguz wouldn't work.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, turning to face the Crow King. "Flying off and leaving no one to command your troops. Yelling at soldiers for no reason."

Naesala's stance was that of a petulant child, arms folded, lips curled into a half sneer, and gaze averted upwards. "I have been a King longer than you, maglet. I know what I'm doing."

"You're distracted and making decisions I wouldn't think you would make. Whatever is messing with your head, deal with it. I need to be able to count on you."

"Yes, yes. Run along now and plan your battle. I will be your oh so obedient servant," Naesala said with a mocking bow.

Soren pinched the bridge of his nose to stop himself from grabbing the laguz's wrist and yelling at him. When he looked up, the laguz King was gone. With an angry sigh, he went off to make himself useful.

 

-.-

 

Jill set the cup of tea, mixed with a heavy dose of pain killing herbs, beside Haar's cot, biting her lip. Haar was always able to hide when he was in pain, so the fact that she could tell that he was worried her. She knelt by his side, keeping her gaze away from his mangled limbs.

"Are...are you in any pain?"

"I think that's kind've obvious," Haar said, then took a sip of the tea, nose wrinkling at the taste. "Rhys needs to make these taste better."

"This one comes from Mist."

"Makes sense. She's getting back at me for making fun of her cooking a few nights ago," Haar said.

Jill stared at him with wide eyes. "What possessed you to do something so stupid?"

Haar gave her a crooked smile. "I didn't know she was right behind me. You know me better. I couldn't insult a pretty lady to her face like that."

"You insult me all the time," Jill said, eyeing him.

"Ah, teasing. Much different from insult," Haar said while wagging a finger at her. "And I only tease the beautiful ones."

Jill opened her mouth to reply but then froze, her cheeks flushing bright red. "Haar..."

His grin flattened out, and using his good arm, he pushed himself up on the cot. "Jill, tomorrow you will fight to reclaim your homeland. As much as I want to be there to protect you, I know you can handle yourself. Just...don't sacrifice yourself needlessly."

Jill looked away. "It's my homeland Haar. I will do anything to free it once more."

"Even leave me, as I almost left you?"

Jill kept her gaze down as Haar slipped his good hand over her clasped ones. Small scars crisscrossed over his fingers, a sign of his experience in war. He had spent his whole life fighting, more than she had. His hands were rougher than hers. He would always be the one to protect her; even if he wasn't physically there, he gave her something to come back to. A reason not to sacrifice herself.

"I won't leave you," Jill said finally. "You are as much my home as Daein is."

"Good. Because I don't want to have to lie here and hope you aren't doing something stupid," Haar said.

"Haar...do you really think I'm beautiful?" Jill asked.

"Well, I tease you, and I only tease the beautiful ones..." He laid back on the bed. "I'm taking a nap."

"Haar! You didn't answer my question!"

A light snore was the only reply.

 

-.-

 

Naesala coughed, hoping he could wake the swordmaster without actually touching him. Zihark didn't even twitch.

"How do I settle my issues with you when I don't even know what they are," he murmured, folding his legs to sit on the ground by Zihark's cot. "For some reason I don't hate you. Can't you see that's a problem?"

"No."

Naesala's eyes narrowed. "You rat. You knew I was here."

Zihark opened one lazy eye, then closed it again and turned away. "Just because I'm awake doesn't mean I'm not tired. But if you need to talk, let's talk."

"I don't  _need_  anything from you," Naesala said as he got to his feet. "Don't assume that I do."

He turned, but stopped when Zihark's strong grip wrapped around his wrist. "Maybe I need to talk to you."

"And why should I care about what you need?"

"That's a question you need to ask yourself."

Naesala broke his grip and whirled to face him, lips twisted in a sneer. "There you go again. Tricking me into doing something...something-"

"Good? Healthy?" Zihark asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "I don't do it on purpose, but if I can make you do something nice, I won't regret it."

"And why do you care?"

Naesala couldn't stop a smug smirk when the man couldn't answer, only tilting his head and staring at him. The smirk was wiped away when Zihark began to talk.

"I care because you were able to give me closure, albeit harsh closure, about Kanla. And I care because I want you to realize that doing things for people, and helping other people doesn't make you weak. I think that's your problem. You think caring about people makes you...not as powerful. But that's not true. And I guess that's all I really have to say," Zihark said. "It isn't much but...I guess that's all you're getting."

"You...are painfully honest. I want to hit you," Naesala said.

"But you won't, will you?" Zihark asked, raising his eyebrows. "Because for some reason you care about me."

"I don't want to care."

"And why not?"

Feeling backed into a corner was not something Naesala was a fan of at all, and the swordmaster seemed quite determined to do just that. "I don't have to tell you anything." He was trying, shamelessly, to anger Zihark, but his effort seemed to be useless, for the swordmaster only stared up at him, gaze patient but not even a trace of pity. He was thankful there was no pity, though on some level he almost wished there was; it would give him something to be angry at.

"It's up to you. I just think you should get whatever's bugging you off your chest," Zihark said, lowering himself back down. "We can't afford to have you acting impulsively tomorrow."

"I saved your life acting that way."

"Why?"

"Who cares why? Everyone demands to know why I do things. Why I help put a  _Branded_  King on the throne. Why I saved you. Why I care. I do  _not_ know. Can you not just leave it be?"

"I am not the one who asked you to come here."

Zihark closed his eyes and turned his head aside. Frowning, Naesala sat beside him once more.

"I don't know what's wrong. I don't know what has changed within me, only that I am not the same," Naesala said.

For once, Zihark did not have a reply. A moment later, a hand reached out and gently touched his shoulder, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. Naesala shifted and leaned back to rest his head on the mattress, then reached up to slip his hand on top of Zihark's. Their fingers entwined and even as Zihark drifted into sleep, the frown that marred the Crow King's face never faded.

 

-.-

 

"Soren? Soren? Soren!"

The mage started as Mist's hand met the back of his head, and he turned to glare at her.

"Don't give me that look," she said, hands on her hips. "I've been asking you the same question for five billion hours, and you just keeping staring off in the distance."

"What's the question?" he asked with a sigh.

Mist's angry expression relaxed. "Soren...are you alright?"

"Mist, what did you need?"

"We're running low on vulenaries and spears. Do we have gold to buy more from the citizens?" she asked.

"Do the citizen's have anything for us to buy?" Soren asked. "If so, send Jill, and a laguz."

Mist tilted her head to the side, expression curious. "Um, why them?"

"We need to undo the damage Ashnard wreaked. I refuse to be the King of a nation that thinks of laguz and Branded as subhumans. This would be...a good first step," Soren said. "And Jill is of Daein heritage and if they see her working with a laguz, perhaps it will send a message."

"You think of everything, don't you?" Mist asked with a smile.

She hurried away to carry out his orders, leaving Soren alone in the supply tent. His mind, and body, were exhausted. He wished only for sleep, but it was just midday and he had to check in with Ike and the others on their progress in battle plans. But first he had to meet with Xane. It was his fault the younger was so weak, and he still had to thank him for what he had done. They probably would've lost the battle if Soren hadn't been able to draw on his power.

He entered the tent quietly, but for no real reason as the pink-haired laguz was already awake and walking. Xane turned and smiled, leaning heavily on the desk to remain standing.

"Goddess Xane. I didn't know it was this bad," Soren murmured, moving to wrap an arm around Xane's waist and walk him back to the bed. "You're staying out of the battle though, yes?"

"I will be in the back to assist if needed, on horseback," Xane said. "I can do that at the very least."

Soren rolled his eyes.

"If you were me, you would do the same," Xane said quietly as he looked down at his hands. "I need to do this."

Soren crouched in front of the other. "Xane? Are you alright?"

Xane shrugged. "I just...need to find myself again. Fighting, becoming stronger, I think that will help."

"Okay. Alright," Soren said, straightening.

"You aren't going to make me stay here?" Xane asked in surprise.

"If you think you can be useful, then I'm willing to let you come. Just stay near the back, okay? Don't do anything stupid."

Xane nodded, eager. "I can do that."

Soren hesitated a moment, then bent to hug him close. "Thank you for staying with me this long. It means a lot."

Xane's skinny arms returned the embrace and he could feel the laguz smiling against his neck. "Thank you for believing in me."

 

-.-

 

"Soren!"

The mage turned to see Tibarn and Sothe, an odd pair, striding towards him. "Yes?"

"Um...there's a group of men and women from the nearby villages. They want to fight," Sothe said.

"No," Soren said. "They aren't trained."

"You'd be surprised," Sothe said. "We've had to fend for ourselves for years. They can fight. At the very least, go speak with them."

"...I can do that," Soren turned to the Hawk King. "What else?"

"I just wanted you to know that while I...do not like your heritage, we won't turn our backs on you for tomorrow's battle. After...I cannot support you with good conscience." With a quick nod, the Hawk King turned and walked away.

Soren's gaze slid over to the thief. "Abrupt, but not entirely unexpected."

The thief offered him a weak smile." I can take you to meet the citizens now, if you want."

Soren nodded, following as the thief began to walk away. "Sothe, can I ask you something...and have an honest answer?"

Sothe paused and then gave a curt nod. "Yeah."

"Are you okay? With my being King, I mean. This is your home country after all and I...feel like you think I might be intruding," Soren admitted.

Sothe turned to face him, halting their progress. "I believe that if anyone can fend off the resulting anger that will come from Begnion and those who are prejudiced against Branded and laguz, it's you. You're too smart for them to outwit you."

"You don't mind my heritage?"

"Not everyone in Daein is a total idiot," Sothe said with a roll of his eyes. "You'd be surprised how many Branded have been hiding around here. Now pick up the pace."

A minute later they were outside the camp to greet about sixty men and women. They were skinny and worn, their weapons rusted and falling apart, and yet they stood before him with pride and determination in their eyes. That was something in Daein's favor.

When Crimea had been taken, her people had rolled over and taken the abuse, their will crushed in one single blow. And yet Daein's citizens, after years of exploitation brought on by the vicious oppression of another country and their own power hungry generals, were ready for a fight. The dismal fog that had occupied his mind the whole day began to fade at the thought.

"I was doubting your willingness," Soren began. "But seeing you, I know you are just as determined as I am. Now you are welcome into our camp. Sothe run ahead and warn the convoy they have a few new fighters to outfit."

 

-.-

 

Volke knew corner Sothe was going to be near impossible. The thief had grown into a more than capable assassin, and his senses were nearly as sharp as the older's. It was only through the most careful stalking he was able to follow the thief to his tent, darting in right after the green-haired thief and pinning him to the ground.

"Volke!"

"We're going to have a conversation," Volke said as he pushed his mask down. "Running around and pretending to be busy is not going to stop me."

Sothe pressed his forehead to the ground, relaxing beneath him with a sigh. "I'm not pretending to be busy. I have to organize my troops and work with Soren and Ike."

"I'm more important," Volke said.

The thief tensed once more, and his next words were clipped. "You would say that. Things I care about are never as important as  _you._ Never as important as money."

"By I, I meant we. Our relationship is the most important."

Sothe began to wiggle beneath him, trying to slip out of his grasp and escape. "We are not more important than a country. You're too selfish."

"Says the one who ran away without a word. Do you know what that did to me?"

"I'm sorry. But it's better that I did because how long will it take for you to grow tired of me, leave for your own benefit?"

"If I recall, that's what you did," Volke murmured.

"Only because I don't want to give you the chance to hurt me."

Carefully, Volke rolled the younger over. "I don't know how deep my feelings for you run, but I do know that those years without you left me feeling empty."

Sothe tried to avoid his gaze but Volke was too close, and eventually, green clashed with garnet. "Volke...I'm scared of...this."

"Don't run away." Volke pressed their lips together once, briefly. "Let's try again."

"But I can't tie you down to Daein. It wouldn't be right," Sothe said, even as he arched closer, wanting to taste his lover's lips.

"I cannot be tied down, not even for you. That doesn't mean we can't be together," Volke said.

Sothe turned away again. "I...I don't know what to do."

"Love me," Volke murmured against his neck, one hand slipping up to glide through his green hair.

"When you don't love me back? You ask too much of me."

"Do you deny your own feelings?" Volke asked. He stood and pulled Sothe up as well so he could wrap his arms around the young thief. "I know you love me, Sothe. And I know you're afraid that I won't return it. But I'm asking you to take a chance."

Sothe wrapped his arms around Volke and buried his face in the assassin's neck. "Don't...don't leave me alone again."

Volke kissed the top of his head, running his gloved fingertips over the thief's exposed lower back. "I never did. And I never will."

 

-.-

 

Soren scraped the last spoonful of stew out of his bowl, feeling warm and content for the first time all day. He had decided to take dinner with the Greil Mercenaries. It was an odd show of sentiment that he was not used to, but with the final battle on their doorstep, he decided that tonight was not the night to be his normal cold shouldered self.

He watched as Ike stole a piece of bread off Mist's plate, only managing a bite before the valkryie swatted the back of his head and took it back. Oscar was listening patiently to Kieran's story, which required lots of hand motions and flailing. Rolf was trying to get Shinon to laugh and growing increasingly frustrated when he failed. Gatrie was giving his food to Ilyana, staring with Mia as she inhaled it with a look of mild horror. Rhys and Titania were deep in conversation. Every once and awhile, Boyd would sneak a kiss to Mist's cheek. The mage was surprised Ike wasn't glaring at them, and he actually couldn't recall when the two got together.

"Hey, you're falling asleep," Stefan said, nudging his side. "Want to call it a night?"

Soren straightened in his chair and shook his head. "No, I'm trying to remember this." He glanced up at the swordmaster, expecting to see a question in the man's eyes but there was only understanding. The mage shifted his chair closer to Stefan's so he could lean into the man's embrace as Oscar and Mia stood and began to collect up the bowls and silverware, carrying them out of the tent.

The conversation among all of the members was smooth and continuous, and underneath it, an energy seemed to thrum. Soren knew that everyone who sat around the table cared about him, and would do anything they could to win the battle tomorrow. Even the ones that complained would help because in a weird way, they were a family. A semi-functional family that he couldn't live without, but would eventually have to.

He had been so prepared to leave them behind, and then they had walked back into his life and he had been unable to deny them, having no will to do so. But soon, too soon, he would have to continue on once more without them. The Greil Mercenaries were too entwined with Crimea for their presence to be at all welcome within Daein's political structure.

Perhaps...when things had settled down he would be able to be with them, on the rare occasion, once more. Boyd ended up carrying a half sleeping Mist out of the tent not even an hour later. Shinon and Gatrie were next, then Rolf, Oscar and Kieran. Ilyana. Then Titania and Rhys, followed closely by Ike. It was always the same order.

"It's just us," Stefan said, pushing his chair out. "Shall I carry you?"

"I can walk," Soren said as he stood up.

"Hm. Just because you  _can_  doesn't mean you  _have_  to," Stefan reasoned, and before Soren could work in any further protests, the swordmaster had swept him up bridal style and waltzed towards their tent.

He would've said something more, or wiggled his way out of the man's embrace, but it was too warm, too comfortable, and instead he only nestled closer. When they finally arrived in their tent, the flap secured tightly, Stefan let him slide down to his feet. The mage stood up on his toes and craned his neck for a kiss, slipping his fingers into the man's green hair.

Stefan hummed lightly into his mouth, arms twining around the mage's slim waist. The kiss was tame for a while, but then the mage pulled away, staring up at the swordmaster through hooded eyes in the flickering candlelight.

"Stefan...I want more," he murmured. "I need you."

Stefan nodded, brushing their lips together as he did so. "I need you too."

For once, Stefan did not ask if he was sure. His answer must've read in his expression, in his body language. He needed Stefan to make him feel alive one more time, in the ultimate way, before he closed off his old life and began the new. He would either live or die, and either way, everything changed.

The swordmaster kissed him again, deeper than before. It was not a chaste kiss, instead fueled by a carnal desire and an almost instinctive need to finally be one, to commit the final act of love. It was partially motivated by fear. Fear that they would never touch again, that they would never taste the sweetness of the other's lips. Their clothes crumpled, forgotten on the floor.

Stefan stretched out over the younger, finally breaking their lip lock to try and catch his breath, forehead pressed to Soren's. The mage's eyes practically glowed in the near darkness, and he could feel his pulse when his fingers danced over the pale column of his throat.

"I love you, Soren," he whispered.

The mage gave him a soft kiss. "I love you too. Make love to me Stefan."

Stefan shuddered in his gentle grip, then pressed their lips together once more, a hard kiss, before moving down to worship his neck. The man's touch drove him insane. Every kiss and suckle was carefully calculated, sliding over his flesh in just the right spots while his hands worked at memorizing his smaller build. Before long, embarrassing whimpers were sliding past Soren's lips and he cursed, not for the last time, at how easily he came undone in Stefan's hands.

Soren groaned as Stefan crawled off of him, leaving him exposed on the mattress. "Where are you going?"

Stefan rifled through his knapsack near the foot of the bed, showing Soren a small vial of massage oil. "Better than using spit."

Soren flushed, realizing then what exactly they were doing. As if sensing his nerves, Stefan moved back to cover his entire body, pressing a few soft kisses to his cheeks, then finally his lips. He unscrewed the top of the vial and dipped his fingers in, then placed the vial on the floor out of the way. Soren squirmed and gasped as the swordmaster trailed the cool liquid down his stomach and over his arousal. The first finger slipped in with less discomfort than the first time they had done this, and unable to help himself, Soren arched his back.

Stefan curled his arm under Soren's back, pulling him up so their chests were pressed together as he continued to finger him lightly. Soren's shaking arms wrapped tight around his neck and he pressed their lips together in a heated kiss, tongues twining together for a taste as Stefan slipped the second finger in. His breathing hitched as Stefan began to expertly massage his hole, stretching him open.

"I've been waiting for this," Stefan murmured into his ear. "Been waiting to claim your body as mine. See you gasping beneath me."

Soren twisted in his grip, rolling his hips down. Stefan's words were causing a delicious heat to begin building deep in his gut, coaxing his hips to meet every thrust of the man's fingers. Words continued to spill from his lips when he realized how much the mage liked hearing them, and Soren couldn't help but shudder.

"Stop talking and actually do it," he finally gasped, his breath puffing hot against Stefan's lips. "I need you in me Stefan. Please."

Stefan groaned and gave him a kiss, sloppier than before. "I can't resist. Are you sure you're ready?"

Soren nodded, eyes closed. He needed something more than fingers. He needed to be filled, be claimed by the one who had already claimed everything else. Slipping his fingers out, Stefan lowered the mage back down onto the bed and positioned himself between his thighs, elbows propping him up on either side of his head.

For a moment their eyes locked, and Soren swallowed thickly, taking in the sight of the green hair half hiding the man's penetrating gaze. There was pressure, and then Stefan's length was pressing into him. His back arched once more, hands moving to claw at the man's back even as he bucked his hips, driving them closer.

"Soren!" Stefan gasped his name out, one hand reaching down to steady his hips. "Careful."

"Feels good," Soren moaned, lips moving over the swordmaster's wrist. It was easier to reach than his lips, and his tongue slicked over the soft skin, tasting sweat. "Move, please."

Stefan began to nibble at his ear. "You aren't in any pain?"

Soren gave a disgruntled noise and grabbed at his free hand, bringing it to his own hard arousal. "Does it feel like I am?"

Stefan's fingers slid up and began to tease the head, and Soren almost regretted his actions until pleasure began to tingle up and down his spine. He could feel the swordmaster smirking against his neck, and then he pulled back out, slowly so Soren could feel every inch of him.

He gave a choked moan when Stefan pushed back in, driving right against his prostate. Their lips sought each other out naturally. Their breath mingled, and their moans collided against each other. The feel of Stefan's length stretching him wide, filling him so completely was driving him insane, but he wanted it deeper, faster. He barely needed to speak a word, Stefan reading his desires in the way he moved and whimpered.

The hand on his arousal pumped in time with the thrusts, forcing his pleasure higher and higher until all he could think of was Stefan's length filling him, again and again. A sobbed "I love you" was gasped into the swordmaster's mouth when Soren finally came, slicking the man's grasping hand. He didn't cease his pumping until Soren was fully spent, his shudders dying out.

But he did not stop his deep strokes in and out of the mage's body, not having quite reached his pleasure. Seeing the mage come so completely undone beneath him had pushed him close to the edge, but he needed more.

"Say it again," Stefan murmured, loving the moan he was able to produce with a hard jab against the mage's prostate.

"Huh?" Soren asked, voice dazed.

"Say it."

"Love you," Soren gasped out as understanding overcame him. He could feel his length twitch at Stefan's persistent lovemaking. "Love you. I love you Stefan."

Stefan bit down on his neck to muffle his cry as he came, filling the mage with his release. "Goddess, Soren." He bucked his hips a few more times and Soren clawed at his back, the feeling of Stefan's release filling him up reawakening his desire.

"Oh Stefan."

Stefan pulled out, arms shuddering and barely able to hold his weight. He didn't waste a moment, pushing himself so his shoulders were between the mage's thighs. In moments, Soren's hardening length was swallowed deep into his mouth, and his fingers were pushing back into the mage's abused hole, slick from his cum.

The mage let out a keening cry, coming faster than usual at Stefan's tongue on his over sensitized arousal. Stefan easily swallowed his release and withdrew his fingers, swiping them through the cum on Soren's stomach before raising them to the mage's lips. Soren cleaned the man's fingers with his tongue then kissed him once more, pulling him close so they were lying on the cot side by side.

"I love you Soren," Stefan murmured against his lips.

"I love you too," the mage said, meeting the swordmaster's gaze. His fingers trailed over the man's face, memorizing every curve and surface. "You...you're my everything."

Stefan tugged him closer, tucking the mage's face against his neck. No more words were said as the candle burned itself out, and before long, they had both drifted into contented sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

_Dear Journal._

_Today, we take Daein and I become the King. I don't know what will happen afterwards, nor do I know if I'll even survive. I don't know if the people will even accept me as their leader. This might all be in vain. This could be the last entry I write. I'm leaving this journal with the convoy to take to the castle in the desert, and place it within the library should we fall today. It only feels right._

Soren closed the journal and wrapped a cloth band tightly around it. He exited the tent to see Colm waiting for him, hand extended. Swallowing thickly, he placed the slim journal in the thief's hand, feeling much like he was sealing his own death.

"Don't look like that," Colm said, brushing his cheek with the back of his knuckles. "You'll come out of this alive."

"We're facing the Begnion and Daein armies Colm. I can't see us coming out alright," Soren admitted as he glanced to the side.

"Whoa. Where's all this doubt coming from?" Colm asked, grabbing the mages shoulders and shaking him lightly. "That's not like you."

Soren crooked an eyebrow.

"Okay, you are, but I know you wouldn't get into this unless you thought you had a chance," Colm said. "And we do. You've united laguz, beorc, and Branded alike. That in itself is something no one else has done. Fighting together like this...we can't be stopped." The thief flashed him a smile and released him. Then he pocketed the journal and with a quick wave, he was gone.

A strong arm wound around his waist, and he closed his eyes as Stefan pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Morning, little one. You have a job to do," Stefan said.

"Indeed I do."

 

-.-

 

Zihark ran his fingers through the silky strands of Naesala's hair once more before finally pushing himself into a sitting position. Sometime during the night, the King had joined him in bed, spooning against him loosely. It was an odd feeling, but not one he wasn't receptive too. He took a deep breath, analyzing his body's reactions carefully. Not a single twinge of pain from his lung.

Naesala stirred as he moved, then lunged out of the bed in a flurry of feathers and curses. With one burning glance at the swordmaster, he stormed out of the tent, leaving Zihark with the ability to laugh without getting yelled at. The laguz's stubbornness really was impressive.

The swordmaster stood and grabbed his Killing Edge, which was lying patiently against the single chair decorating his living space. The grip felt just right, in fact, it felt more than right. Today was the day he would be taking back his homeland. He wasn't going to let anything stand in his way.

 

-.-

 

Sothe watched as the camp finished dismantling itself and the troops began to move out. Technically he was supposed to be up with Soren and the others, but he was waiting for someone. Volke appeared with a gust of wind before him, his garnet gaze still hard, but with an edge of softness that he was still growing used to at the edges.

"I know it's stupid, to think you might get taken out but...be careful," Sothe said.

"This battle is something you care about. It is something that you value. I will give my all to ensure we win today, so I cannot promise I'll be careful. I don't think I really know the meaning of the word," Volke said, the edges of his eyes crinkling just enough to let the younger know he was smiling. "But I will survive. I'm a bit too stubborn to die."

Sothe nodded. "Good. Because I don't want to ever be without you again."

"You're becoming too repetitive. I'm not leaving you," Volke said, flicking the younger's forehead. "Get over it."

Sothe smiled.

 

-.-

 

Taking the entrance was easy. Soren was disturbed by the lack of defense, but experience, especially with the Daein Keep, told him that expecting the worse might be the best idea. When they reached the entrance hall of Daein's fortress, he realized that the worse he could imagine wasn't even close. The great doors swung open to reveal a solid line of the black weapons, all aimed at them.

Mina and Ilyana were quick on their feet, erecting a large magical barrier as the weapons open fired, large iron objects hurling against the wall. Ilyana collapsed a moment after, and Ike barely managed to catch her, saving the sage from being trampled as their forces ran back out of the hall.

Soren was the last out, slamming the doors shut with magic before turning to face Mina. "How do we destroy these things?"

"Magic," she said. "A bolt of lightning should do it, but it's going to cause a massive explosion, especially with that many. It might bring the whole hall crashing down on our heads."

Soren looked around at the grim faced forces. There were a lot of them, and to retreat now would be madness. "Everyone back up!" His voice rang with authority and he grabbed Mina's arm to keep her close by. "I want you open those doors. I'll send lightning down the center. As soon as my magic is through, I want you to close that door. That should contain some of the blast."

Mina nodded. "Let me know when you're ready."

Soren called up the thunder magic and with a quick shout, sent it crashing through the small opening the other Branded opened up. The doors slammed shut and there was a sparkle as Mina pulled up yet another barrier. A muffled boom, and the whole keep shuddered and heaved, the motion making even the battle hardened horses snort and pull at the reins.

As the palace stopped it's groaning, Mina eased the doors open. Nothing in the hallway remained, but splatters of blood and dark ash, twisted metal forming a low barrier where the weapons used to be.

"Goddess," Stefan whispered. "We are in for a very...odd battle."

"Odd is not the word I would use."

 

-.-

 

Naesala cursed his ill luck of being a bird laguz. Flying was great and all, but it did put him up against Begnion's oh so lovely Pegasus knights. Sure, the laguz were more graceful, but it would be so much easier if he could just claw out the throats of the beorcs down in the palace. Where he could keep a watchful eye on the stupid swordmaster who wouldn't stop infecting his thoughts. At least there were none of those blasted weapons-

An echoing boom nearly deafened him and he rolled to the side as a speeding hunk of lead shot by him. With a sharp cry, he descended on his foes.

 

-.-

 

Light-footed thieves kept a constant train of messages between Soren and his other appointed generals, Jill and Sothe who had taken the east and west entrances respectively. Luckily, they had not encountered the deadly weapons yet, and were making quick progress towards the heart of the Daein Keep.

The concentration of enemies was high, though he was glad to note that they always ran into groups of Begnion or Daein soldiers, never mixed together, not even to defend the Keep. That resentment couldn't be breached, and Soren was almost confident he could play that in their favor.

But it seemed he wouldn't have to.

He blasted the door open with a gust of wind and the cavalry units plunged through into the next room. Which was full of Daein and Begnion troops fighting each other. Ike was near the front and was able to stop their own troops from joining the total blood bath that was occurring before them.

"Let them fight it out," Stefan said as Soren pushed his way to the front. "They don't seem to be paying attention to us."

"No, not all of those in Daein's army are against us," Soren said. "Keep your blades trained on the Begnion soldiers! Do not fight the Daeins!"

As his command finished, his own army surged forward, and it was only a matter of minutes after that when they had the small troop of Daein soldiers surrounded. At Soren's urging they dropped their weapons.

"We are not your enemies," Soren said. "We will fight with you if you swear your loyalty to me. I am the heir to the Daein throne, not a power hungry general who saw the opportunity to take the throne and use it to oppress his own people. If you do not want to side with us, we will not kill you, but allow you a quick and speedy retreat."

At his words, a small opening parted, revealing the hall they had entered from. There was almost no sound as the Daein soldiers fled the room, leaving their weapons behind. Soren expected it. They didn't want to die, but siding with a man they had never met, that looked to be younger than they were, probably didn't sit well with them either. The more lives he could spare, the better he would look. His actions would spread, and hopefully help win over the people even more.

As they turned to another door, a thief ran through it, one of the light-footed Branded the sage had seen with Colm on occasion.

"Jill needs reinforcements, now," the thief said. "A whole bunch of those crazy weapons took out most of the flying units and a lot of those on foot were killed or injured as well. The weapons are taken care of, but she can't move until she has more troops."

"Ike, take a force with you," Soren ordered. "Be quick."

"I'm not-" the blue haired knight began.

Soren whirled on him, eyes daring him to protest again. "This may very well be one of the most important battles of our lives. Go and help Jill. We'll meet up in the center, as planned."

Ike's expression made it apparent that he did not like the plan, but he obeyed nonetheless, taking a mix of Branded and laguz before taking off after the thief. Stefan brushed against his arm, and with a quick nod, they continued on their way.

 

-.-

 

Jill swung her axe once more, lopping off the head of a Begnion soldier. They were flooding the hall, and at this point it was her, some myrmidon she didn't know, and Zihark of all people holding back the tide. Her wyvern was among the injured, and fighting on foot was throwing her off.

But she had to make it out alive, no matter how dire the situation.

A lance glanced off her armor and she slipped under the knight's guard to slice at his arm, then tearing open the armor guarding the man's heart. Her next blow crushed his ribs and he crumpled. Zihark darted in front of her to take out another soldier and then they were back to back without even thinking. The swordmaster was a good fighter, but she wished it were Haar at her back.

Pain bloomed in her thigh, an arrow buried in her leg between the chinks of her armor. She whirled with a shout and knocked two more warriors aside, running the archer through with the lance she ripped from the strap on her back. Her axe found it's home on her belt and she ran another soldier through with the lance, trying not to stagger as the pain tried to stop her.

She had to get out alive. She had to.

Her blood roared in her ears as she hurled the iron lance through the slits of a helm, shoving the soldier back and drawing her axe to block the lance of a warrior. Zihark finished the warrior off as he tried to attack again, and with a small sigh of relief, Jill realized that somehow they were gaining ground.

A battle cry echoed in her ears as Ike appeared. Titania rode through a tangle of bodies, knocking them aside with her hammer and leaving two cat laguz to deal with the remains. She was able to spare a quick smile shared with Zihark, and then they were fighting once more.

 

-.-

 

Sothe lunged forward, his knife slipping up through the chinks in the man's armor. As the soldier fell, he threw a knife into another's eye, sending him toppling. Volke lunged over him, landing on a general and ramming his own knife home, a quick kill that was more graceful than anything Sothe had yet to accomplish.

Micaiah's light magic rained down, slowing up an archer long enough for Edward to slit open his stomach. Their forces had been together long enough to work seamlessly together, and it wouldn't take long before they reached where the whole of the two armies would be.

A flash of yellow and Heather was at his side, knife in hand. "Might want to send a few units out to provide Jill with back up. Soren already sent a few but the situation is ugly."

"Take four," Sothe said. He knew it was all he could spare.

The Rogue nodded and took off once more. There was a lull in the fighting and Sothe cast a glance around, taking a quick stock. A few of their own men were down, but he didn't bother matching a face to the corpse; he couldn't afford to mourn right now. Mourning would come later. Other than that, he could tell his forces were getting worn down, as determined as they were. They were going to have to end this, and quickly.

"Colm!" he shouted, catching the thief's attention just as he was slipping away. "Tell Soren to make it fast. We can't keep this momentum up for much longer."

 

-.-

 

Wind howled through the chamber as Soren summoned another tornado to rip through the Begnion soldiers, slamming them against the walls. It was powerful enough to knock them around, but he was careful not to waste too much energy. That meant they were still standing, but were much too disoriented to be much of a risk to the rest of his fighters.

After this hall, they would be at the heart of the Daein Keep, where hopefully they would meet up with Sothe and Jill's remaining troops. And then take down the false king Kaligua once and for all.

Soren paused at the gate, then nodded at Stefan to pull the level that would clear the final barrier. Paladins and generals surged forward first, and just as Soren suspected, the weapons were set along the bridges that connected one area to another above the flowing rivers that threaded through the cavernous throne room.

He and Mina worked quickly, raining lightning down on them and then throwing up a brief magical barrier to contain the resulting explosion. Ilyana was functioning again, but every once and awhile she wavered. The initial barrier had drained her the most, but Soren was glad to see she was able to fight.

Stefan leapt in front of him, knocking out a sniper before he had the chance to fire off his arrow. A loud clang echoed through the cavern and Soren whirled to the other entrance to see Ike and Jill emerge. Jill was on foot, which wasn't good but at least she was fighting. They were immediately swamped by Daein soldiers, and for the first time, Soren realized that was mostly who they were facing.

Blood thirsty Daeins who didn't look the least bit interested in being allowed to run away. A moment later, another entrance exploded open and Sothe's troops rushed in. Still, the Daein's fought on, hacking away at them with a single-minded fury. Soren didn't hesitate, knocking the warriors aside and cutting them open with harsh blades of wind. Stefan never left his side.

There was a blur of blue and then Colm was crumpling on the ground in front of him, an arrow buried in the left side of his chest. Soren turned long enough to see a sniper ducking out of the way, then knelt, heedless of the shouts and fighting around them.

The thief coughed, staining his lips red as he stared at the knife. "Who...?"

"Mina!" Soren shouted, but the Branded was already there, staff in hand. Her expression was grim.

"He...Soren, he has a few seconds at the most," she whispered.

"Dammit Colm!"

The thief smiled through bloodied teeth up at him. "Tell Almedha I said hi."

"Colm!" Soren clutched at the man's fingers, willing him to stay alive a little longer, even as he watched the light begin to fade from his blue eyes.

"Great...king."

The thief's eyes slid closed, his grip going slack as his head lolled to the side.

"No...no..." Soren whispered, stumbling back.

"Soren, get it together!" Stefan's voice jolted him back to reality and his body obeyed without checking in with his mind.

He threw himself into the battle, mind going numb and cold. The air crackled with lightning, and the wind seemed to hiss at him as he tore the soldiers apart, seeking out the sniper who had so brutally ripped Colm from his life.

"Soren," Stefan said, his hand locking around the sage's arm. "You're losing it. Keep it together."

Soren swallowed thickly, pushing the voices of the magic down, the voices of those on the other side. The voices that grew louder the angrier he got, urging him to use more power, use all their power to kill anything and everything around him. It was a dangerous high for a sage to be in, and he had almost entered it.

Head clearing, he continued his press forward, relief washing through them as their forces combined with Jill's and Sothe's, then began to press inward towards the throne room itself.

He could feel his body growing tired, but he pushed on anyways, refusing to fall behind the men so willing to follow him into battle. He wondered, briefly, if that was how Ike felt, if that was what always drove the blue haired knight to fight side by side with his warriors even though they would not have complained if he had stayed in the back. For once, he felt as though he owed it to the army to do his best, and if he didn't put in his all, he wasn't deserving of their strength.

So he pushed on.

Then came the shocking silence as they charged through the entry way and into the throne room. Kaligua sat with his legs crossed on the throne, chin resting on his right fist as he stared at them with board eyes. Bright yellow eyes that seemed to glow with a feral light. Upon his forehead was a mark, not that of a Branded, but of a true Spirit Charmer.

His hair was a deep black, hanging in thick strands around a pale face, cheeks sunken as if he hadn't eaten in years. Unlike most mages, he did not wear robes, but instead was dressed in simple black trousers and a tunic.

"Ah, finally. I see the true heir," Kaligua said, smiling as he stood. Despite his frail looking appearance, he moved with a fluid grace, the air shimmering about him. "You are certainly not as stunning as I thought you would be. I thought you'd be one of those meatheads, even if you were a mage."

"You're pretty confident for a man who stands alone against an army," Soren said.

The man threw his head back and laughed, a crazed sound that made Soren's bones shiver. "A Spirit Charmer is never alone."

"I like real company, thank you. I don't enjoy voices talking in my head," Soren said, voice flat.

"Oh, really? But aren't you jealous,  _Soren_? I'm everything you wish you could be. I know all about you. How they thought you were a Spirit Charmer like me, but no...you're just the bastard child of a most unholy union," Kaligua said, the words ending in a snarl. "But it's okay to be jealous. You'll be dead soon anyways."

He raised his hands, then flicked them forward. A sudden growl erupted from somewhere behind him, and the ground shook, then erupted in an explosion of stone and dirt. A large bronze dragon stood before him, absorbing the blast of fire magic even as it shook. Kaligua's expression grew confused for a moment, then displeased.

"Pathetic laguz. So weak you can't even muster up a true dragon form." His hands moved faster than Soren could catch, and the next moment, the dragon fell over as lightning rained down upon its form. The scales melted away to reveal Xane, unconscious but still breathing. "This is between you and me, Soren."

The small laguz's body was suddenly flung back, and Sothe just barely managed to catch it in time, but no one was able to grab Soren as he was yanked forward. Stefan moved to follow, but stopped abruptly as a shimmering barrier of magic flowed up from the ground to the ceiling.

"Don't even think about interfering," Kaligua said, his tone scolding. "Now, little magelet. Let's have some fun, shall we? Just a fair battle between mages. And then, once you're dead, I can finally rule Daein the way I want to. After all, you've taken care of the Begnion army just fine."

"They have more, you think this is all you had to deal with? Begnion will send more forces, and so will Crimea," Soren said. "You have no army left, and no citizens to draw on. Even if you defeat me, you won't survive."

"Oh, and if I let you live? What are you going to do? Spare me?" Kaligua gave a tittering laugh. "How cute."

Soren straightened his back. "I won't bother asking then. Let's end this. I'm tired."

Kaligua's expression grew serious for the first time since they had begun to interact, and for a moment, he looked older than anyone Soren had met. "As am I."

No more words were spoken, and lightning flew from the mage's fingertips. Soren knocked it aside with a gust of wind and summoned a full strength tornado to rip towards the man. There was muffled boom and the tornado vanished, replaced instead by a roaring inferno of fire in the shape of a dragon. It snaked through the air and then lunged towards him.

Soren whipped his hands around him, creating a whirling shield of wind to send the flames spiraling back towards the Spirit Charmer. Voices tingled at the edge of his hearing, but he shoved them aside. Any strong sage could hear the spirits, but only a Spirit Charmer could channel them correctly. If he entered the magical high, he'd be only a tool for their strength. He would have to keep a tight grip on his anger, or risk killing himself before Kaligua got a chance.

Wind howled, ripping at his robes as hundreds of piercing screams echoed in the air. A golden glow pulsed out from the Spirit Charmer, growing brighter and brighter as Soren watched. The Branded sage quickly snapped himself out of his awe, calling his own power to rise up and meet Kaligua's. The spirits hissed and snapped at the edges of his control, looking for a way in.

Soren watched, helpless, as the glow grew brighter and brighter, the shrieks louder and louder. If he was going to survive, he would have to let the spirits in, and hope that they used him without burning him out. Taking a deep breath, he flung his barriers wide, screaming as the spirits rushed in, tearing at his mind and body as their power rushed through him.

He couldn't tell the difference between his scream and theirs, only that every part of his body was singing and humming with magic. Underneath all of it though, he could hear Kaligua's sobs, his pleading.

_End it. Please, please end it. You're the only one._

Soren fell to his knees as the power surged forth from his body, breaking past Kaligua's attack and swamping over the man in a flash of green light. Abruptly, silence fell over them, and Soren thought for a moment he had gone deaf. His body burned and ached from the extreme misuse, and he struggled to keep himself somewhat upright.

The light died away to reveal Kaligua's body, still and unmoving on the ground. The barrier between them and the others slid away, but no one moved. Slowly, the sage got to his feet, stumbling over to the man and then collapsing by his side.

The mark of the Spirit Charmer was burned away, leaving only charred flesh behind. The man was no longer breathing, but his face was relaxed.

"I did it," Soren whispered.

He had saved Daein, seized the throne. And in a way, he had released a man from the prison of his own mind. That was the last thought that passed through his head. The next moment, he had collapsed on top of the Spirit Charmer, letting the darkness pull him under.

**  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I swear I did not intend to kill Colm. I was just writing along and it happened without me realizing it until about a page later. I can't really apologize for it because after some analyzing I felt like I couldn't remove it.
> 
> One more chapter to go guys. I can promise no one else will die, I think.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tacked on the original author's note for this story at the end, even though I posted the entire story on here in one day. Thanks for reading!

The door creaked open and Soren quickly swept the talismans into his leather pouch, stowing it within his robes as Almedha entered. They had freed her immediately after Soren had regained consciousness, and she had confirmed that he was indeed the heir. In the dungeons, they had also found the laguz's closest confidant, a man by the name of Izuka. In all honesty, he made Soren uneasy, but the man's approval only helped secure the legitimacy of his throne.

"Soren?" Almedha's tone was hesitant and Soren resisted the urge to run the other direction.

The dragon laguz had yet to cease smothering him in the last few days, and he couldn't understand her reasoning no matter how hard he tried. It was apparent within the first few moments of freeing her that she had been driven mad by the thought that he was dead. When they had calmed her down enough, they learned that her death had been faked and she had been dragged back to the Keep, where she had been ever since, locked in the dungeons.

Certainly explained why she felt the need to coddle him, even through his protests.

"Yes, Almedha?" he asked, getting to his feet.

She really was a beautiful woman, once she was in clean clothes and gotten herself in order. Years in a dungeon took years off a person's life, even if that person was a laguz.

"I just...the cook has finished lunch," she said.

"I'll be there in a moment," he said, staring pointedly at the door.

She nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Soren leaned against the wooden table and reached into his robes for the talismans, spilling them out on the table once more.

After Kaligua had been carried out with the rest of the dead, Soren had examined his body and found several talismans that reeked with magical power. He had yet found time to truly study him, but he had already learned he couldn't draw power off the gems. It was a puzzle he wished desperately to solve, but...he supposed it could wait until after lunch.

 

-.-

 

Soren wasn't one for fleeing when he felt pressured. It was more in his nature to stand his ground and deal with whatever was thrown at him. And yet now he found himself fleeing to the palace stables in hopes to find some peace and quiet. He had thought the Begnion and Crimean nobles were stuffy, and while that was annoying, they were incomparable to the warlords and nobles of Daein. What they lacked in normal courtly matters, they made up for in pure ruthlessness, challenging every decision he made when devising a plan on how to strength Daein once more.

Izuka and Almedha were no help at all, and Ike couldn't interfere without the nobles screaming about how he was biased towards Crimea. Yet they all overlooked Soren's heritage and associations. Perhaps they were desperate for a King, any King that they could yell at, as long as he actually stayed.

"Fancy seeing you here," Reyson said, latching one of the stall doors as he left. "Escaping your royal duty?"

"Perhaps," Soren said dryly. "I thought you were leaving today, with Tibarn?"

"I am. We were just leaving."

"And what were you doing down here?" Soren asked.

"I had a feeling I'd run into you here. I hear from Leanne that when Elincia is troubled, she often goes to the stables to think," Reyson said.

"Forgive me, but why are you concerned?" Soren asked.

Reyson's lips crooked up in a half smile. "You've changed. A year ago you wouldn't ask for my forgiveness."

"You changed too. You don't hate beorc as much as you used to," Soren said.

"No need to get defensive," Reyson said. "Look, I wanted you to know that you have the heron's support. I don't hold the same animosity towards the Branded that Tibarn does, and while I owe him everything...I need to make my own choices sometimes."

Soren paused, the angry retort dying in his throat. "Thank you...I appreciate it."

"I doubt my approval will help much when it comes to Begnion and Crimea but, just know you can call on us if the need for weak bird laguz ever comes up," Reyson said.

"You are anything but weak," Soren said. "I don't know what we would've done without your support."

Reyson's expression said he had a reply, but instead he just nodded. "I hope I see you again, Soren. I think we might have more in common than I initially thought."

The laguz was striding out of the stable before Soren could think of another response, and for a moment the sage could only stand in slight confusion at what had happened. He couldn't think on it long though, for the sounds of jangling armor and loud talking reached his ears.

The sage turned just in time to see Oscar and Titania rounding the corner, Boyd and Rolf scuffling with one another behind them. The green haired knight offered him a smile.

"We'll be leaving now, Soren," Titania said, stepping forward. "Ike wants to stay but we all agreed it'd be best if we leave."

"Thank you, for your help," Soren said. He had been saying that a lot as of late.

"You can always count on us," Oscar said. "We are your family, even if it makes you uncomfortable."

"I thought that's what family was supposed to do," Soren said.

"Ah, see! He can learn!" Boyd said, pushing past Oscar and sweeping him up in a hug. Soren was so shocked by the action that when Boyd released him, he couldn't think of what to say in response to the warrior's words, instead just staring at him.

"We'll visit when things are calmer," Oscar said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I would like that," Soren said.

The sage left the stable then, wanting to find Ike before the man snuck off without so much as a goodbye. He reeled back in surprise when he ran into the blue haired general just past the stables. Ike pulled him into a tight hug before he could back away any further, resting his chin on top of his head.

"Didn't think I'd leave without saying goodbye, did you?" Ike asked.

"Maybe I did. A little," Soren said.

"I could go on and on about how I wouldn't do something so stupid, but you should already know that by now."

"And you should already know how thankful I am, so I won't bother saying it," Soren said, smiling into the man's tunic.

"Little late for that. Goodbye Soren."

"Goodbye Ike."

 

-.-

 

Soren stopped at the infirmary on his way back up to the meeting room to check up on Xane. The small laguz was still faint and could barely walk, but Mina has assured him it was normal for a laguz regaining his powers.

"You look better," Xane said as he pulled up a chair.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?" he asked.

"Yeah, probably, but you do," Xane said, giving him a quick smile.

"So...do you think you'll be able to turn into a dragon like that again?" Soren asked, curious.

Xane shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. It was instinct that time. I saw you were in danger and all I could think was that I had to save you. I reacted without thinking."  
"Well, you saved my life," Soren said. "I don't want to know what that blow could've done to me."

"And we'll never have to find out. Hey Soren?"

"Hm?"

Xane twisted the bed sheets in his hands as he thought, not looking at him. "Thanks for...helping me. I have a long way to go before I'm normal again but...without you I don't think I'd have gotten this far."

"You're my friend," Soren said, never so sure of the words as he was then. "I know you'd do the same for me."

Xane looked up, smiling. "Yeah. I'll be here for you, you know. I'm not leaving you, not now. I'll help you in anyway I can."

"Rest up so you can actually be useful," Soren said, his tone light.

Xane just laughed.

 

-.-

 

Over the next few days, the laguz and beorc allies from neighboring countries Soren had accumulated began to depart. He was sad to see them go, though he didn't admit it to anyone but himself. Almedha continued to cling to him, and the nobles continued to rant, but no one displayed any true discontent over his rule.

"I think you need to relax," Stefan murmured against his temple, hands digging into the sage's tense shoulders.

Soren was unable to keep his head from slumping forward, forehead leaning against the scroll containing Daein's more recent financial transactions. The numbers were starting to blur anyways, he thought, giving a soft groan at Stefan's actions. The other Branded had already begun their trek home after Colm's funeral, but Stefan stayed by his side.

In his words, the Branded could survive on their own while he began making steps towards creating a legitimate country for them to live in.

"Let's put these dull scrolls away, shall we?" Stefan asked, one arm wrapping around the sage's torso and pulling him back against the chair so he could shove the scrolls to the other end of the table, not caring that they were getting all mixed up.

To be honest, Soren didn't really care either.

The sage stood and turned, moving the chair out of the way to embrace Stefan. They hadn't had any time to relax with one another, and the swordmaster's embrace felt too good to resist.

"Stefan?"

"Yes, little one?" Stefan pressed a soft kiss against his brand.

"Thank you. For everything," Soren said, voice quiet. "Helping me with Ike. With...coming to terms with being Branded. For being there when I needed you most."

Stefan didn't acknowledge the sage's tears as they began to flow with words, only bringing one hand up to gently brush them away. "I love you, Soren. I'd do anything for the ones I love. You know that."

"Promise you won't leave me?" Soren didn't know why he bothered asking; he knew what the man's answer would be. Sometimes it helped just to hear it.

"I promise," Stefan said, moving far enough apart to look the sage in his eyes. "We're in this together."

"I like the sound of that."

"Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my. I made it out of this story with my sanity somewhat intact. Impressive. Thank you so, so, so much you guys for bothering to read this thing all the way through and stick with it this long. I don't know what I would do without your encouragement!
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: There will be a sequel. That is why soooo many things were left undone. I wanted to expand on them, but to do so properly, I knew I would need more than just a few chapters. So look forward to that. I hope to see all one you over there when I get around to posting it! :D Thanks so much!


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